Teeth of a Tiger
by kwfinley
Summary: Jake can never let go of being a fighter pilot. Being timid is just not his style. When Germans set up to attack shipping, Sarah is tasked to investigate, and Jake goes hunting. In the meantime, the not-so-good Reverend finds himself facing two masters and isn't sure which will win.


_**Teeth of the Tiger**_ 131

This story is a labor of love. Love of Grumman Goose Seaplanes, 1930's adventure stories, and the TV series "Tales of the Gold Monkey". Although I borrowed the characters from the series, I intend no infringement on any creative copyright by the original authors. The Goose has starred in adventure stories and pulp fiction such as the Turk Madden and Ponga Jim Mayo series by famed Western author Louis L'Amour and stories written by songwriter and novelist Jimmy Buffet. Frankly you can see some of Turk and Ponga Jim in this bare-fisted, ready for anything Jake. The original TV series had some major historical flaws. Where I could, without seriously damaging the existing bible for the story, I've tried be more historically and technically accurate.

Devil Bird

The mottled grey-bodied bird circled high above the villagers. They could barely see the yellow head. Suddenly it started to dive towards the center of the huts with a mounting scream. The natives ran from the screaming shape swooping from the clear tropical sky. Flames spit from its fiery red eyes as it chased over a fleeing group of villagers. In too short a time, the village was a shambles, bodies strewn among the wreckage. The village shaman was crying the folly of anyone transgressing on the bird spirit's sacred nesting space. Others were walking dazedly about, seeking some intact portion of their lives. Children were weeping over unresponsive parents, parents were holding the broken, riddled bodies of too quiet children; and men and women were standing beside the still forms of what had once been the living, breathing, loving presence of a life partner. What had been a beautiful blue day was now a black cloudy Hell. Clearly this was punishment for some terrible sin – but what sin? Gathering food for hungry children? Walking openly on land that had always been theirs? Were the God's mad?

The old man stared at the ruins of his hut. He'd lived there twenty summers. Sticking out from under the rubble were the hand and foot of the once breathing clay that had been his Nonni. Their marriage hut would be her funeral pyre, come dark.

The old man tried to sort out his feelings, put thoughts into a coherent purpose. He remembered when the bird had come. The creature's strangely pale priest with hair bright as the sun had come to their village to warn them to stay away from the high valley between the twin peaks of the resting fire spirits. They were to stay away from the slopes facing the rising sun. He had brought presents to the tribe, useful items such as knives for the men and fish hooks that stayed sharp. For the women he brought bolts of bright cloth. And even the children had received toy drums and whistles. The festive dress wrapping the stinking, blood-spattered remains of his Nonni had been made from that cloth. It had seemed such a good omen, and a little thing while the food was plentiful on their side of the island.

It had seemed to be a peaceful arrangement. The creature appeared to keep the promises of its pale priest, and did not bother them with its coming and goings. They feared it, however, because they sometimes saw it tear up boats that passed near their island. Fishermen who went out near the shipping lanes returned to report that it attacked the large metal canoes of the pale skinned ones. It was clearly an evil spirit. It occupied a huge nest in the valley. The old shaman was certain he had seen another smaller version of the Devil Bird. All the villagers feared that more of the devil birds might hatch in the nest. Still, others argued, including the village shaman, the bird had not harmed them. What it did to the pale-skinned ones was not their concern. The pale-skinned ones were not their people. As long as The People were faithful to the covenant, they would not be harmed.

Then had come the dry season. The harsh, afternoon sun had played havoc with their crops. Food began to be hard to find. Hungry children cried at night. The fish seemed to leave their waters. The shell fish were dying in their beds. Were their gods angry that they were harboring the devil bird? Did it serve a rival god? One that destroyed the great canoes that the sea gods granted passage on its surface? Were they caught between warring gods? Why was it that The People always had to suffer when gods were angry with each other? The natives overcame their fear when they became angry that the spirit's nest was between them and the best food gathering places on the island. The shaman reminded them of their promise. He reminded them of the gifts. But, food was getting scarce around the village and hungry people would go to where the food was. Children were suffering. A village once filled with laughter was now quiet and sullen. What was wrong with collecting food that had always been theirs for the taking? They did not openly defy the devil bird, or its priest? They had merely gone to gather enough to still the crying. And now the devil bird was here to punish them for their need to feed their children? It was too much.

The old man decided. They would go for help. His two young sons were already down in the wreckage of the village fleet on the beach. They had found a small boat that wasn't too badly damaged. They were patching its holes and replacing damaged sections with parts from more completely wrecked boats. Tonight, after the fire was burning bright that would return Nonni's spirit to the waves in the sky; he would gather the remains of his family. They would go to Boragora.

The old man remembered Boragora. A priest stationed there had taught him a few words of French. He had tried to teach the old man about trade and politics. He had tried to explain why a fair sized volcanic island with little tillable soil, had become important to the outside world. It had an excellent source of fresh water, and a deep, sheltered lagoon large enough for the great steel birds to safely land and take off from the water. With the advent of the steel birds the pale skinned people called Panam's, strangers had built the large hut for the many priests of the great birds. He had even seen the bird once, seen it land on the water and roar to the dock with its rotating feathers. He had seen it vomit up many people. He'd never understood why the people seemed so willing, even happy, to be devoured again by the great bird. It almost made him believe in an afterlife like the one discussed by the pale priest of the Dutch Reformeds.

These and many other things about the workings of the greater world beyond his island confused the old man. He didn't comprehend how officials in the French Mandate, of which Boragora was a part, had decided to make the island a hub for trans-Pacific transportation and government. Larger islands in the chain had settlements and more formal governments; many had fishing or mining interests along with profitable plantations, but commerce poor Boragora became the communication hub. The lagoon hosted a modest shipping dock and passenger and fueling facilities for the Clipper. The natives on the island lived at bare subsistence level, even with the multi-purpose government center and missionary presence. Still, Boragora was a good place to take small loads of shell, or the occasional pearl for trade. There were many items the natives couldn't make for themselves, but once they had them, found them difficult to live without. The white chief there had medicines for sick children. The priest there was very attentive, but it was best to keep your pretty young daughters away. Sometimes blessings had unintended results that had to be fed with the rest of the children.

The old man wasn't certain he could convince the pale-skinned ones that the demon birds were real. All he had to do was persuade them to come investigate. He knew and understood demons. After all, hadn't he, himself, seen the flames of the dragon as it ran through the jungle past his village? Hadn't he felt the ground shake under its mighty feet? Hadn't he seen the demon eat the moon and prayed until it relented and spat it back out? And what of the fire spirit that lived on his island? Hadn't he stood silent before it until it slept and then crept away? Oh, it was ok that these ignorant ones, these invaders of his islands with their doubt and smug mockery, did not believe. Maybe their worlds were free of spirits, but he thought they were just blind to them. He would still tell them of the fierce screaming bird whose very look was death – how fiery darts shot from the eyes and consumed those they touched. They might not believe, but maybe he could make them curious enough to come look. It would take three solid days of paddling just to get there. Hopefully there would be something left if they returned.

The Acquisition

The small red and white twin-engined seaplane taxied into the lagoon. The Grumman G21 "Goose" was a staple of adventurers and explorers. Originally the design of a group of wealthy tycoons who had wanted a small plane that would take them anywhere, its usefulness had made it an instant hit with almost everyone. This one looked like the survivor of a crash, which it was, with multiple layers of tape and paint just holding it together. It carried two occupants, only one of which was actually human. The other occupant would probably argue that he was better. The pilot, Jake Cutter, often flew with no other companion besides his scruffy black and white mixed breed terrier named Jack. The pilot made deft use of the light late-morning breeze to help "sail" the Grumman into position next to the long, cluttered dock. The necessary actions were so routine; Jake had plenty of time to let his mind wander about the trip's strange events. He thought about how he had never had the chance to be a Boy Scout, but how he sure admired their creed – "Be Prepared". Too often, flying the Goose he had felt like someone else was calling all the shots. He thought about how he wished, just once, he could call the shots. To have the edge. He'd forgotten about another creed "Be careful what you ask for, you might get it." The Goose bumped against the wood of the dock. Jake shut down both engines, laid his cigar stub on the dash, and hung his headphones on a hook just behind his side window. His head disappeared from the window and reappeared out of a hatch in the bow. His hands are full with the end of a line, and Jack, whose distinguishing feature was a brown leather eye patch over one eye. Jake coaxed Jack to take the frayed end of the line in his jaws. Jake then placed the dog on the forward part of the Goose's flat black deck and watched as the dog jumped to the dock.

A short, stout man came out from under a tattered awning installed on the dock to serve as maintenance shed for the Goose's operation. He was wiping his hands on an already greasy bit of rag. All it did was move the grease on his hands to new locations. Jake called out, "Hey, Corky" with considerable warmth in his voice. There is quite a contrast between these two friends. Jake was tall, slender, good looking in a weathered way with wavy light brown hair and blue eyes. He's wearing a Detroit Dukes baseball shirt, brown leather bomber's jacket, short billed aviator's cap, and khaki pants cinched in at the knees by a pair of polished brown riding boots. Corky's a rumpled off-key symphony in white – stained t-shirt, grubby denim jacket, and white dungarees, and crepe-soled white deck shoes topped by a grimy white cap. His pudgy shape was shorter than Jake's with perpetually sun-burned skin, shaggy black hair and what looked like a two day growth of beard; but might just be more grease.

"Hi Jake, Hi Jack." Jack dropped the line to bark twice, acknowledging his inclusion in the greeting. Corky obligingly helped by wrapping the free end of the line in figure eights around a large steel cleat bolted to the dock. Jake took his end and did the same to a smaller cleat on the nose of the Goose. Jack sat in the shade of the shed and watched with his one good eye. It was alive with an almost human intelligence. His tongue hung out in the heat.

With the Goose tied down, Corky asked his inevitable "How'd it go, Jake?" Jake waved and disappeared back into the hatch. It closed and the Goose rocked gently at the dock as Jake walked back to open the rear hatch.

"Everything went fine, Corky. The Goose ran like a Swiss watch. That last rebuild on the carburetors and the new plugs we picked up from the mechanic on the Clipper really made the difference." Jack barked twice as Corky's pudgy round face beamed from the praise. "In fact, I think the old girl is flying better than we've ever been able to get her to fly."

"That's great, Jake."

A furtive smile stole over Jake's face. "Corky, come here, I want to show you something I picked from a guy on Wake."

"Fine, Jake, just pull it out on the dock and I'll look at it."

"No, come in the Goose – I don't want these on the dock."

"Jake, you're acting awful mysterious."

Jake looked slightly exasperated then smiled as he gave an exaggerated look around the deserted dock. He stage whispered "I know … humor me."

Corky followed Jake into the Goose and up into the nose. Jack jumped in through the rear door behind them. Piled in the nose are several green boxes of the type the military used to carry ammunition, and two long wooden cases, painted green, with rope handles and illegible stenciling on the sides. Corky stopped in surprise.

"Uh, Jake? Do I want to know what's in those cases?" Jack barked once for no.

"You're going to have to, Corky. I'm going to need help with this."

"Uh, Jake, I don't think we oughta be thinking what I think you're thinking."

"Corky, why not? How many times have we been shot at? And you know it's only going to get worse. At least with these we'll be able to defend ourselves."

"Now I know I don't wanna know." Jake just looked at him expectantly. "So, what are they, Jake?"

".50 caliber machine guns and all the hardware to install them in the Goose. Did you know that a number of Grumman G-21's have already been armed? The US Navy flies them as scout planes. The French are using a couple as patrol boats for some of their frontier regions."

"Jake, I don't care what the US Navy does." Pause, then a hopeful look. "Speakin' of French, Louie ain't goin' to like you making an armed gunship outta the Goose, Jake."

Jack barked once.

Corky was right to be concerned about Louie. Louie was Bonne Chance Louie, the real authority on the island. He served as Magistrate du' Justice of Boragora and owner of the two-story building that served as bar, restaurant, hotel, and government center for the island. The faded sign over the door read "Monkey Bar and Hotel", which didn't even begin to cover all the functions originating there, most of which were legitimate. Louie managed the operation with the help of three friends; Gushie, his wheelchair bound administrator; Gascard, his chef and bar tender; and Jacques, his sometimes piano player, and sometimes security chief. He was not to be mistaken for a gendarme, however. His methods weren't that legal.

Jake glared at the dog. "Stay out of this, Jack. That's just it. That's why I didn't want them out on the dock. What he doesn't know won't hurt him or us."

Jack barked once again. Jake looked at him with annoyance on his face. Jack slunk to the tail of the plane and curled up on an old blanket heaped on top of a tool locker welded to a rib in the aft cargo hold.

"He'll sure suspect something when we start installing them."

"He's not going to see us. I just got a line on a sailor who is showing off a fake eye of opal and sapphire. It's got to be Jack's eye. We leave for there and tell folks we won't be back for a while. We'll find a nice quiet cove on a deserted island, tie up for a day or two, and drop these in. Then we'll be ready for whatever anyone throws at us."

"I don't know. I don't like the idea of turning the Goose into a warplane. She wasn't meant to be no fighter, Jake."

"Corky, I know. Remember those twin-engined Blenheim bombers I flew back in Magwa and Toungoo. When we're done, I don't think she'll be any worse than one of those. And she'll be a whole lot better than what I flew in Spain." Jake placed a hand on Corky's shoulder. "I don't want a fighter, I just want some insurance."

"What's Louie going to say when he sees the gun ports?"

Jake beamed, excited by his vision of the project. "I've got that all figured out. We'll set the guns back far enough to cover the muzzles with fabric tape. Paint it, and it'll just look like any of the other patches already on the old girl."

"I still don't know, Jake. Besides, we're broke. How'd you get these?"

"I hauled some equipment for this guy and didn't know he was as broke as we were. He offered these and some gas as payment. I asked him where he got them, and he said they were salvage." Jake felt a little guilty for the lie. The truth was that his contact, Josh Winters had found the guns for him. He'd picked them up when flying out to the aged Clemson class Destroyer, the Hancock, to drop some stuff off and pick up some coveted baseball scores from the flight surgeon stationed aboard her. Josh had agreed that Jake would be better off with some firepower aboard the Goose.

"Jake, these don't look like salvage to me." Corky's brain may have been booze addled, but there was nothing wrong with his mechanical sense. These guns were still coated with that all-purpose army coating, cosmoline. It was a bear to get off, but it did protect just about everything from the Pacific salt air.

"Yeah, but it was the only way we were going to get anything out of that leg of the flight. Actually, he had some other stuff I picked up as well."

"Like what?"

Jake felt a twinge of guilt as he pulled the two brown-black wrapped bars out of his pocket "Like these … " he offered.

"Chocolate! Jake, he had chocolate?" Corky's fears about stolen merchandise evaporated as he took the offered bars in his pudgy hands and inhaled deeply.

"Yeah, and I thought you might like some."

"I haven't had chocolate in over a month. Boy, this is great. You're a pal, Jake."

Jack barked once and looked at Jake.

You're a jerk, Jake thought as he asked instead "So, will you help me with this?"

"Yeah, Jake, sure. What ever you think."

"Corky, I promise you, my hope is that we will never use these." Jake looked at Corky's eyes and decided he wasn't convinced either. It didn't help when Jack weighed in with a single emphatic bark.

Setting the stage

Later that evening, Jake, Corky, Sarah and Louie are lounging in the Monkey Bar between Sarah's song sets. It is a relaxed evening with Louie's chef, Gascard, in the kitchen trying to do something suitably French to the carcass of one of the many wild pigs roaming the island. Jacques, a weather-beaten Frenchman, was playing a slightly ribald French tune on the ornate upright piano. Nobody knew much about Jacques except he tended to dress in dark clothes and always wore twin shoulder holsters containing worn, black handled MAB model D pistols. He plays beautifully, if a touch heavy-handedly, and was completely loyal to Louie. Gushie was rolling about the bar waiting on customers. This was a function of his lack of legs and constant confinement to a wheel chair. Although Louie is clearly the authority, and the business manager, Gushie takes care of thousands of details. Rumors abound that Gushie was Louie's Master Sergeant in the French Legion, and lost his legs trying to save Louie's life, but none have ever been able to confirm that. For now, Gushie is the major domo of the Monkey Bar. He serves drinks to quietly observe the customers and occasionally pick their pockets. No one knew when the three men joined forces, but their partnership is formidable, and it isn't all that certain who is taking care of whom.

With a careful play of nonchalance Jake began his campaign. "Louie, do you need anything from up around New Britain?"

Louie smiled. "Why do you ask, mon ami?" he asked with his smooth, cultured voice

"Jake," wailed Sarah, "you just got back. Why are you heading out again so soon?"

Jake tried not to look this slender, auburn-haired woman in the eye. This was Miss Sarah Stickney-White, distractingly attractive in a pale green evening dress with bare shoulders. Graduate of Vassar, world traveler, and currently beached in Boragora; she was singing for her keep at Louie's Monkey Bar. Jake had helped her get her singing job with Louie before he learned of her other, somewhat furtive activities. One such activity had been a close call for both of them, and forged an unusual friendship. Sometimes, hopefully not this time, she had an uncanny knack for reading his mind. "While I was out this last leg, a sailor told me that he had met a sailor up that way who had Jack's eye. I made enough this trip to have a chance to buy it back and get out of the dog house."

One sharp bark.

"No offense, Jack." Jack put his head on the floor between his paws, and didn't look the least bit convinced.

"Any how, if I'm going up that way, I might as well try to make it pay."

Louie crossed slim legs and leaned back. The smoke from his cigarette drifted upwards to become tangled in the blades of a lazily moving ceiling fan. "It amazes me, mon ami, how you go on living out of the holes in my pocket. I pay you for hauling freight, and you turn around and pay me for room and board and damages to my establishment. I can't, how do you Americans say … break even."

"Come on, Louie."

Louie smiled. He enjoyed baiting his American friend. "Well, it just so happens that a gentleman, I use the term loosely, I might add, up in the Solomons has spare parts for our generator. I might see my way to part with a few francs for you to go get them. You would also be able to … discretely … deliver a few items for me to a plantation up there."

"Swell. Thanks, Louie. I can take care of all that on the way back."

Deciding to put the best face on a disappointment, Sarah chimed in. "While you are up there, Jake, you could pick me up a new dress. I've practically worn this one to rags."

Jake looked at the slim, but curved figure and wished more of the dress was rags, but that was no good to dwell on.

"I'll see what I can do." Jake glanced appraisingly at Sarah's trim form. "What size? A ten?"

"Jake Cutter! Of all the mean …"

Jake immediately acted apologetic. "Sarah, I was only teasing." He felt bad about hurting Sarah, but he didn't want her thinking too closely about his story.

Jack barked once. Neither stopped Sarah.

"… things to say. You know I'm a size three."

Louie interrupted with an ingratiating smile. "I would have said a size 2, Cherie. However, Jake, I will need to send a few radiograms in preparation. When do you plan to leave?"

"I had figured to leave in the morning."

"Wait till after lunch, and I will have everything ready."

"No problem. Sarah, will you let me buy you lunch?"

"Hmph." All Jake could see was the back of Sarah's head and the light freckling across her shoulders as she has turned away from him.

"Please, Sarah, I really was only joking. Regardless of what some furred traitors say." Jake gave Jack a significant look just before he barked again. "No more beer for you tonight." Jack covered his face with his paws and managed to look pitiful. A faint whine escaped from between front paws.

Louie looked at the two. "I think, ma Cherie, that it is time for your next set. Put your feelings into your song, and the customers will be most pleased."

Without a word, Sarah stood up to go over next to the piano. Corky looked at Jake, a worried frown on his face, and walked over to replace Jacques on the piano. Louie looked at Jake pityingly, "Jake, mon ami, I suggest that you applaud very loudly."

"Do you think it would do any good, Louie?"

Louie stood, and clapped Jake on the shoulder, "Non. But it might convince the audience that they are hearing better music than they think they are. It could at least help my business."

Discrete modifications

Jake and Corky took off into clear blue skies early the next afternoon. Jake was glum, as lunch with Sarah had been mostly silences with Corky trying vainly to patch the rift between Sarah and Jake. His awkward efforts had really only made things worse since it made it obvious that Jake wasn't trying as hard as he might have. Sarah left looking puzzled and hurt. Corky left muttering about efforts not being appreciated. Jake stayed at the table long enough to finish his beer then went looking for Louie for the necessary travel permissions and letters of introduction.

Once airborne, Jake kept Corky from trying to cheer him up by starting a technical discussion about how to arm the Goose. Most of the debate centered on whether to mount the guns either in the nose or in the wings. They decided that the best way to keep the guns concealed was to mount them in the wings, outboard of the engines.

Toward evening they found a small deserted island with a cove that suited their purposes. They beached the Goose and set up a tent on shore to serve as workshop and sleeping quarters. For the next three days they sweated bullets, forcing weapons systems to fit a platform that was never intended to be armed. In spite of Corky's misgivings, he worked hard on the wing installations. They gently removed a section of the metal skin to expose the main spar and stringers. They braced the guns between stringers and carefully installed the ammo belts to feed from between the inboard stringers. Corky built special ammo trays out of scrap metal to keep the ammo properly positioned to feed the massive .50 caliber rounds reliably from the long, heavy belts. He created inspection panels for the section of wing over the ammo trays, making the whole loading process easier. When he was done, the results were almost invisible. Since the triggers for the guns were electronic, they wired the pair to an arming switch on the dash under a red cover. They drilled the yoke to mount the firing button on the back where Jake's index finger fell naturally on the controls.

They ran countless tests to make sure the ammo belts fed smoothly. Then, they bore-sighted the guns to converge in front of the Goose about four hundred yards off the nose. They only tested at night, and even Corky admitted that it was an awesome sight watching the tracers converge in a huge V across the night sky. The only thing they didn't figure out was how to install a gun sight. Jake wasn't very concerned about it as practically nothing he had ever flown had had a reliable sight. He claimed he could rely on instinctive shooting, like an archer with a primitive bow and no sight window. Corky was just as happy to leave any sight off. In his mind that implied that the installation wasn't complete, and maybe Jake wouldn't be tempted to use the guns.

Employing the same logic, Corky used extra care sealing the gun ports. Once he had them taped and painted, there was no external evidence that the tiger had teeth.

Jake complimented him on the final looks as they stood back and looked at the Goose before resuming their journey. "Corky, the wings look perfect."

Corky tried to reinforce the notion that the guns should never be fired. "Yeah, Jake. Be a shame to tear that up. I don't think I could ever get it looking that good again."

Jack barked twice, and Jake just gave them both a long look.

Otherwise, the experimenters found what those before them had found. The Goose was a stable gun platform and actually performed better than either of them expected. Of course, they had to recalculate the aircraft's weights and balances to compensate for the added equipment. Fortunately, by placing the guns in the wings the Center of Gravity was not much affected. Front to rear it didn't change, but the Goose was slightly more top heavy in turns and other maneuvers. Ironically, the extra weight in the wings seemed to make it more agile in certain maneuvers, such as side slips. With a few rocks loaded on board to simulate ballast or cargo, she flew as well as ever. Jake swore that the couple hundred pounds of extra weight wouldn't noticeably bite into their cargo carrying capacity, range, or airspeed. Corky wasn't so optimistic, and of course, Jack agreed with Corky.

When finished, they really did fly on to try to find Jack's eye. As usual, when they got there, the supposed new owner was already gone. Jack was furious. Jake argued that with the information being third hand to begin with, the sailor was probably gone before they left Boragora; that he would have been gone even if they hadn't stopped to install the guns. Jack, unconvinced, retired to his padded tool locker in the aft cargo hold and refused to come out. No amount of coaxing would get him to acknowledge any overture Jake made.

In the mean time, Jake managed to complete all of Louie's errands and even picked up some small point to point cargoes that enabled them to show a tiny profit, providing a handy excuse for the length of time they were gone. In New Britain, Jake remembered to find a couple of dresses that he thought would look good on Sarah and he was looking forward to seeing her wear them. He spent more than he could afford, and hoped the effort would get him out of the doghouse with Sarah.

An unexpected bonus was the old junk dealer in New Britain. He had some practically new wicker passenger seats from a crashed Sikorksy flying boat. The wealthy owner of the craft had decided to have only the main components shipped home and the seats had been left behind to save shipping weight. Jake and Corky spent a hasty two hours removing the eight original steel-framed fabric-covered seats from the Goose's passenger cabin. Corky scrounged some white and light green paint and it didn't take long at all to paint the cabin sides below the windows green, and the remaining sides and ceiling, white. By the next morning, they had adapted the lighter frames of the wicker seats to the cabin interior. They were astounded at the difference it made to the cabin. It looked more spacious, and the wicker seats felt much cooler. The real gain was the forty pounds saved per seat. They didn't even mind recalculating the weights and balance charts again.

The only hitch with the whole trip was Jack, who continued to sulk all the way back to Boragora. Corky wasn't much help with Jack as he was withdrawn and seemed to spend a lot of time looking at the discretely installed arming switch cover on the Goose's instrument panel and the unobtrusive black button mounted on the back of Jake's control yoke. By unspoken agreement, the changes were never mentioned. Jake was determined everyone forget about the mods until needed. The silence weighed heavily on Jake's usually optimistic mood and he began to feel that he was in the doghouse with everyone.

Cry for help

Late one afternoon, the Goose finally returned home to roost in Boragora's sheltered cove. Jake and Corky secured the amphibian to the dock and walked up the beach into a quiet furor. Two young natives are flanking a table in the space that passed for Louie's private dining room. Louie was occupied examining the comatose old man lying on the table. Sarah stood next to him with an enameled basin of water and a clean cloth. Gushie waited quietly on his chair, ready to bring whatever Louie should need.

Corky looked at the scene and decided a drink was more important. "Jake, can I go get a beer?" He looked hopeful as he had not had a drink since they left Boragora. He never touched alcohol when "working" as Jake's mechanic on the Goose. Jake, more curious about the story hanging untold in the air, nodded for him to go ahead. Just as Corky was about to leave the room, Louie looked up.

"Corkee, mon ami, please relieve Jacques at the piano. I want him to check out the canoe these men used to arrive."

Corky beamed at the chance to be useful. "Sure, Louie." Besides, it meant Gushie would keep him supplied with free beer.

"Oh, and have him ask Reverend Tenboom to come by, in case we have need of him."

Corky looked scared of having two things to remember, but bravely accepted the challenge. With a vague looking nod, he entered the main bar.

Jake studied the three natives. All three looked the worse for wear. "What's happening?"

"It is most curious, Jake. These three arrived on the beach a few hours ago in a badly damaged and patched canoe. There were almost no provisions. The whole voyage seemed quite desperate."

"What have they told you?"

"Not much, I'm afraid." Louie straightened and stretched to relieve his back. "They live on an island about a week's sailing from here. The old man is their father, but he lapsed into a coma before he could tell me more than the fact that their village is under attack by some devil or demon bird."

Jake looked at the two young men. "What can the other two tell us?"

Louie shook his head. "It seems they know neither English or French. Their tongue is a dialect with which I am not familiar."

"What do you think it means, Louie?"

Sarah noted "they are all scared out of their wits by whatever it is. And, I get the feeling of deep sadness."

Louie carefully used a cloth to drip a few drops of water on the old man's parched lips. "Unless I miss my guess, the old man did without water so his sons would have enough. I fear it was almost too much for him. He may have had a stroke or a heart attack."

Jake stared thoughtfully, "A week by canoe isn't long by air. Do we need to check this out?"

"Oui, Jake, it is not far by air, but in what direction? What currents or winds did they encounter? No, my friend. Until this gentle man is able to guide us, we have no clue. We cannot search an area 240 kilometres on a side."

"Search vor what?" The different voice startled Sarah and Jake. They had not heard the Reverend Tenboom enter the room. He repeated his question, the blue eyes intent on the faces of the three friends. "Vat must we search vor."

Louie refolded the wet cloth and laid it across the old man's forehead. "We do not know, Reverend. We only know that these three men risked their lives to bring us word of a danger to their village. The old man had a cross about his neck and I thought a Christian minister might be a comfort to him. If you have the time."

"Ja, Herr Magistrate. My services are at your disposal."

"Merci. Do you by any chance recognize this man?"

"Nein, Herr Magistrate. I have never seen him before." Willi almost spit out his answer in his hurry to reply.

Louie looked closely at Willi's innocent blue eyes. "Please stay with him a while. Perhaps if he heard you praying, it would ease his rest. Gushie will be nearby if you should need anything."

Willi nodded eagerly. "It is my duty to serve this Christian innocent." He pulled one of the dining room chairs closer to the head of the table and sat down, holding one frail hand in both his large ones. "Is his condition critical?"

"Perhaps yes. He is unresponsive. He may have suffered a stroke, a heart attack? Who knows? His condition is beyond the resources of my poor facilities. If he lives, it will be by the Grace of God."

"God is most generous."

Louie shrugged. "Perhaps. If his condition changes, notify me immediately."

"Immediately, Herr Magistrate."

Louie nodded his thanks and motioned for Jake and Sarah to follow him into the bar. Sarah, her distress evident, walked very close to Jake. He linked her arm in his to provide reassurance. She looked at him, something clicked in the depths of her eyes, and she moved closer to him, walking shoulder to shoulder with him. For the first time in two weeks, Jake felt peace.

Louie turned to Gushie. "I suspect the two young men will stay at their father's side. Please have food taken to them. Also, a basin of water and cloths. See if they know how to wash. Oh, see if any of our people recognize the dialect." Gushie just nodded and redirected his wheelchair toward the kitchen, stopping at a table of native fisherman to talk.

The three friends sat at their favorite table, just off the piano. Jake held Sarah's chair, and all were careful to not disturb Jack, lying under the table lapping beer from a shallow plate. Corky was playing Bluefield WV Jazz master Maceo Pinkard's 'Give Me a Little Kiss". Once again Jake marveled at how Corky's hands, usually shaking from his constant craving for a drink, could be so deft when playing the piano, or engaged in the mysterious art of mechanical maintenance. All three listened for a time without saying a word. Louie looked wistful. Finally, he sighed. "How I long to hear Jean Sablon again. He played piano exquisitely, you know."

Jake looked startled. "You've heard Jean Sablon?"

"Heard? I knew him personally. It was I who suggested that he study voice." Louie looked disappointed, ignoring Jake's shocked expression. "I had hoped he would continue with the piano, though."

Jake was speechless. Sarah decided to change the subject.

"Louie, what do you think happened to those poor men?"

"Who knows," with his typical Gaullic shrug. "It is clear that they were in great danger, from which they narrowly escaped. Sailing here in that small canoe was the act of desperate men. Until, or if, the old man revives, none of us will have any answers."

Jake leaned forward, a skeptical look on his face. "Whatever it is, I seriously doubt that there is any devil bird. You don't believe such superstitious nonsense do you?"

"As long as you have been in these islands, Jake" Louie chided his friend. "I would have thought you knew by now that these lands have their own reality. You know better than to ignore the spirits of these islands."

"I don't know, Louie. We've always been able to find a rational explanation for everything we have seen. There's always a logical reason."

"I'm not so certain, mon ami. Until I can investigate, I shall reserve judgment." He listened as Corky finished up another selection. "Sarah, my dear, I think it is time for you to sing. And I must stop neglecting my patrons. At least the paying ones."

Jake started. "Oh, Sarah, I almost forgot in the excitement. I found a little store in New Britain that had some interesting creations. I brought you a couple." He pulled a package from under his jacket where it had been tucked into his belt in the back.

Sarah looked at the package with a faint suspicion – or maybe dread. "What is it?"

Jake smiled, and turned to wink at Louie who had paused. "Why don't you open it and see?"

"Oui, Cherie. Another couple of minutes will do no harm. Let us see what Monsieur Jake has found you."

Sarah ripped open the paper to find two evening dresses. Both were form-fitting sheaths, one a black and the other a coral color. Both are made of a soft, clingy satin fabric with lace to cover the arms and neck. "Oooh, Jake." She squealed in delight. "They're beautiful. I can hardly wait to try them on after my first set." She gently folded the dresses back into the package. She gave Jake a squeeze with a whispered "Thank you" before going over to the piano where Corky is waiting patiently, wishing for another beer.

Louie placed a hand on Jake's shoulder. "My friend, how do you say it? I think you hit that one out of the park."

Jake grinned and sat back to listen to Sarah sing.

Queries

The next morning Jake and Sarah are sitting on the veranda of the Monkey bar. Jake was wearing his Duluth Dukes baseball shirt and khaki slacks. He considered these his 'working clothes' as he was preparing to fly a small cargo of tools to a plantation to the east. On his way back, he planned to stop by several islands and pick up any mail.

Sarah was wearing a white sundress with small flowers and a bright smile. They were waiting for breakfast. Jack was under the table, having already been fed. They heard a clamor on the dock, and Jake half stood to see. All he saw was Jacques standing on the dock shouting and waving instructions to a group of natives attempting to carry a small canoe ashore. Jake plopped back down and surveyed the beautiful morning.

Sarah asks "So you weren't able to catch up with the sailor with Jack's eye?"

"No, he'd already shipped out."

"Well, I guess you couldn't help that."

Two barks came out from under the table. Sarah looked puzzled.

Jake grimaced. "Corky and I made a couple of stops before we hit the port instead of flying straight there. Jack thinks I should have dropped everything and rushed straight there."

Two barks.

"Jack, we didn't have enough fuel for a straight hop."

Sarah looked under the table. "Jack, be fair. That sailor was probably gone before Jake even heard about it."

Two barks and a growl.

Sarah looked back to Jake. "Did anybody know where he was going?"

"We asked around the docks and a couple of bars, but no one knew anything."

Sarah looked sympathetic. "It'll turn up again." She looked down at Jack. "You'll see, Jack. We'll find your eye."

One bark.

Jake shrugged. "Guess I'll wait to see if it turns up again."

Jack barked once.

"Jack, there is nothing I can do about it."

Two barks.

"Jack, I'm sorry. I tried. You know that."

One bark. Sarah tried to hide a smile.

Louie walked through the batwing doors of the bar. His face brightened as he saw his two friends back on good terms. He wondered just how much Sarah liked the new dresses, and whether Jake would let her express her full appreciation. But no, that would be out of character for the Sir Galahad of the airways.

"Bon Jour, mes amis. Is this not a fine day?"

A sharp bark came from under the table.

Jake winked at Sarah and Louie. "It would be if some grumps weren't trying to spoil it with their unreasonable attitudes."

Louie looked puzzled until Sarah pointed down at Jack.

"Ah, Monsieur Jack. You are still upset about your eye, non? I promise, when I radio this afternoon I will ask all the Magistrates to be on the lookout for your eye. When I hear a report, I will dispatch Jake as my agent without delay."

Jack barked once.

Louie shrugged as if to say 'I tried'.

Sarah changed the subject. "Louie, how is the old man?"

"No change. I've moved him to a room upstairs. His two sons are sleeping on pallets in the same room. They will be comfortable, and close their father. A couple of Reverend Tenboom's congregation are tending to their needs."

"I think you're taking care of the old man is just swell, Louie."

"It is only my duty, Cherie. These people are my responsibility. And Reverend Tenboom has been most eager to provide assistance." Then it was Louie's turn to change subjects. "Jake, how often do you get out to Tongu?"

"I've flown by it. Not much reason to stop. Why?"

"It seems that our natives come from out that way. We don't have much in common language-wise. It's been like a long game of charades. At least I have managed to learn that the oldest son is Tikko, and the youngest is Makki. They appear to agree with their father that a great devil bird swooped down on their village and destroyed most of it. Including their mother, sadly."

Sarah looked startled. "That explains the sadness I felt last night. I know what it feels like to lose a parent suddenly. And then to take such a long journey and end in fear that they will lose their father, too. How sad. Do they really believe they saw devil birds?"

"Oui. They claim that they have seen them so low that they can see the feathers on the wings, and very red eyes that dart flames when angry. Until the old man recovers, or if, I'm afraid we can learn no more. However, I was wondering, Jake, if you had seen anything in that area?"

"Sure haven't. Want me to take a looksee out that way?"

"It might not hurt. It might have been no more than a violent storm and lightning among the shadows. That is how legends are born."

Sarah nodded. "Sure, and their grief might have caused them to roll the whole thing together. That is certainly more believable."

About that time Gushie comes out with a tray containing Jake and Sarah's breakfast.

Louie looked thoughtful. "Perhaps I'll ask the good reverend if he has heard anything from members of his flock."

Leaving Jake and Sarah to their appetites, Louie stepped off the patio and walked down the dusty beach toward the church. It was a beautiful morning and reminded him of his resolution to get out more. Standing on the top step of the church, he knocked on the white-washed doors. He heard an unpriestlike curse that sounded more German than Dutch, accompanied by a low giggle. He smiled knowingly, perhaps even envying the priest his "blessings." A rich Teutonic voice calls out. "A few moments, please."

"Of course. Take your time." Louie waited patiently, unwilling to allow his mood to be spoiled, thinking back to a recent opportunity of his own to bestow blessings on a wealthy young adventuress on the last clipper who had a most irregular problem with her passport. It took a whole two weeks to resolve, which hadn't done anything for his resolve to get outside more. He wasn't complaining.

The door slipped open just enough to allow a shapely young native girl slip through, trying to hold her wrap-around dress in place. She nodded to Louie and giggled, and he smiled and touched his brow in an informal salute.

He watched her undulating progress down the beach, waiting before calling out "Reverend Tenboom, this is the magistrate. I wish to consult with you about a story I heard today. May I come in?"

"Certainly Herr Magistrate. I was about ten minutes from coming to see you."

Louie feigned shock. "So soon?"

Willie sounded flustered as he came to the door fastening his jacket and smoothing back his thick blond hair. "Idt has been a long morning."

"Indeed?"

"A pastor's verk is never done. So many of my children need blessing. So many seek God."

Louie's Gallic discretion kept him from visibly rolling his eyes. "Oui, monsieur. I was hoping you might have heard something while servicing your flock from the outer islands. Have you heard anything about a devil bird? Attacking fishing boats and villages?"

Willi's mask of affability slipped for an instant. "Vere did you hear dat?"

"The old man you tended last night. It was something he muttered before he became non-responsive." Louie noted the slip. He repeated what the old man had muttered and what he had learned from the two sons.

Willi recovered trying to look thoughtful. "That sounds very strange. My children, they are zo superstitious."

"Yes, they lack our education and civilized understanding of science and technology. However, I often find their accounts to be startlingly accurate for all their ignorance."

Willi looked uneasy. "I haff heard nodthing. I will however, enquire very closely with my children. If anyone has anything, I vill come tell you right away."

Louie gave him a searching look. "Bien. Well, it is time for me to supervise the preparation of lunch. Au revior."

Willi escorted Louie to the door and then rushed back to the pulpit. He released a concealed latch and opened a hatch revealing stairs below the pulpit. The hatch slipped from Willi's nervous fingers and it slammed against the altar with a loud bang. A bang heard by Louie, standing thoughtfully outside. He nodded and finally started toward the Monkey Bar confident that he had set something in motion, even though he doesn't know what.

Walking back through the village to the Monkey Bar, Louie stopped to talk to various individuals and in general take the pulse of his community. He is almost back to the Monkey Bar when he hears the roar of twin radial engines defying gravity once more.

"I wonder what he'll find." Louie spoke under his breath, not for the first time. "Ah. To be so young, and so free again."

Weighing Risks

Late that afternoon, a visitor dressed as a simple seaman approached the chapel door. The stiff walk and erect bearing suggested an occupation other than seaman. His staccato rap on the doors brought an instant reply from inside. A surprised Rev. Tenboom swiftly admitted him.

The seaman snapped to attention. "Heil Hitler."

Willi waved his hand. "Ja, heil. You got here quickly." He recognized the poorly disguised seaman as one of the Gestapo spies working the islands. This particular slimy specimen was named Rolf.

The seaman walked about the chapel, peering down aisles, and into the small apartment located on the side of the chapel? "Ve are alone? Habben sie none of your women waiting for your amusement?"

"Nein, ve are alone, Rolf. I would not have let you in otherwise. Vas tuen Sie here? I did not expect you tonight"

"Ja, ve vere on der way here to tell you to watch for a small canoe of natives. Dey must not tell der story."

Willi looked indignant. "Dey haff already arrived."

"Ja, ve received your radiogram. Der old Medicine Man did not notice that three men were missing from the village until two days after the attack. I caught an inter-island ferry that night. Unfortunately, idt vas nodt coming straight here."

"Der sub could have brought you here in time."

Rolf shook his head. "Nein. Der risk was unacceptable. Der ist an American warship in the area. We cannot have him spotting our movements. Ve haff lost one submarine to that ship."

Willi was contemptuous. "Der Hancock. Der Third Reich should not fear an aging destroyer that can barely stay afloat." Willi stopped there. He had no intention of letting Rolf know that his friends had sunk the sub. He was loyal to Germany, and maybe even the Third Reich if it succeeded. But he had no affection for the Gestapo.

Rolf looked at him arrogantly. "Ven ve are ready, der Hancock vill nodt haff to worry about remaining afloat. Ve vill send it to the bottom in pieces."

"Ja, Ja." Willi had heard the boasts before. "Till then, vat do we do about the natives?"

"What have they told you?"

Willi shook his head. "Nodting, except that a Devil Bird came and destroyed their village. The two boys do not speak the local language. Only their father knows French und he is in a coma from the trip. Der Frenchman has them in a room."

"Is no one watching them?"

Willi smiled. "I am watching them. I haff offered many prayers for their well-being. Idt is my duty as a priest."

"But, you are here now."

"Ja, I was with them all night. Two of my congregation are watching now and will call me first if there are any changes."

Rolf walked about in thought. "Ve must arrange for an accident. Der old man must not recover. Dey all three must die. Tonight."

"Dumpkof!" Willi was furious. "Der Frenchman is no fool, like you. If dey all die, he vill know idt is not an accident. Der old man must be kept alive, und unconscious. Der boys are isolated. Nodthing can they tell anyone. Always with you it is killing. Idt is not the answer."

"Du hast gone soft playing priest, with your women. Du hast lost der vision of the supreme Vaterlund."

"Nein. You come and go as you please." Willi's hand swung in emphasis, almost backhanding Rolf. "I stay here, enduring constant risks. If I am caught, there is no diplomatic immunity. I am a spy. I will not be executed. The French are not that kind. I will spend the rest of my miserable life at Devil's Island. Do not speak to me of courage or duty to the Vaterlund. At least I use my wits more than my gun."

"Der natives must not talk."

"Dey vill not, but they will live to avoid suspicion. Go back to your safe base and play soldier. I vill protect our mission here, und I haff the authority to do so. If you doubt it, let's radio now for instructions. At least my superiors haff brains and use them."

"If ve fail to control the sea lanes, du vill pay vor your insolence."

"Bah!" Willi stood to his full height, every inch the model of Aryan superiority. "Sprechen SIE nicht zu mir about insolence. Fear your own incompetence. I vill not pay. You failed to even track three natives in a primitive canoe."

Rolf quivered in place, speechless. After failing to glare Willi down, he turned and reached for the door. Willi slapped his hand away.

"Idiot!" he hissed. Willi carefully opened the door and smiled at two natives passing by. He looked carefully about the street. When he can see no one, he shoved Rolf out and closed the door behind him. In the resulting quiet he leaned against the door and sighed. Only then could anyone recognize his nervousness. He wiped his forehead, polished the thick clear lenses of his wire framed glasses, and sighed.

After a moment, he straightened, reached to a nearby pew and picked up his usual white suit jacket. He shrugged in to it, pulled it straight and prepared to leave the church. He decided to walk over to the hotel and check on his patient. As he walked through the village he stopped by a small shop to buff the toe of one immaculate black shoe. Only the vendor of the stall nearby heard his muttered "I must speak to your mistress."

He walked on to the Monkey Bar to check on the patient.

A few minutes later a pigeon left from behind the stall, ignored its relatives loafing about the village, and streaked to the north.

Conflict Avoided

When Jake and Corky returned late the next day, it was to a number of surprises. It started with the aging Clemson class destroyer, the Hancock, hove to about ten miles out from Boragora.

Corky's eyes lit up. "Jake, you suppose we'll see … see …" Corky's eyes focused in the distance, his face wearing a frustrated frown.

Jake took pity on him. "Josh?"

Corky looked disappointed. "Yeah. Josh. We haven't seen him in a long time."

Not that long, Jake thought. "We probably will. If he hasn't transferred off for other duty."

"He was all right, wasn't he, Jake."

Jake smiled. "Sure, Corky. He's a fine fellow. It'll be good to see him again. Maybe he'll have some baseball scores." With that, Jake concentrated on lining up the Goose for his final approach. He wondered what Josh was doing here, now. Something was up.

The sound of voices and music met the two further down the beach than usual. Obviously the Monkey Bar was in full swing and Louie would be having a profitable evening. Even the lights seemed brighter in the gathering dusk. They stepped through the batwing doors to find almost every table full and even more people were standing around. The bar was almost three deep in patrons. Jacques was hammering on the piano keyboard, his holstered pistols swinging in time with the music. Gushie, Louie, and Sarah were milling about the room talking to customers and taking orders. Louie and Sarah both looked up at the squeak of the doors and waved. Both started to make their way across the room toward a table near the piano with a reserved placard.

Jake and Corky took their smiles to be an invitation to join them and cut through the crowd to meet them. Sarah was wearing the new black gown with an orchid in her hair. Jake eyed the combination and nodded in approval. Personally, he felt the dress looked much better on Sarah than on the mannequin in the shop where he had found it. Gushie responded to some unseen command and wheeled over shortly balancing a tray on his lap with two cold beers in dark brown bottles, a glass of white wine, and a snifter of cognac. He grinned at their thanks and rolled off.

Jake got the first question in. "So how's the old man?"

Louie shook his head. "Not good, I'm afraid. He's still in a coma. He's receiving excellent care. The good Reverend is with him almost all the time."

"How are the boys?"

"It seems they are adapting. Young Makki went out with a group of our natives to go fishing. He's a very hard worker. Tikko stayed to watch his father."

Sarah shook her head. "He didn't watch very close. I saw him walking on the beach with one of the girls who was supposed to be watching the father."

"Oui, he took a short walk with Leela." Louie smiled as he took a sip of his cognac. Leela was a very beautiful young lady, he had good reason to recall.

Sarah pouted. "I can't imagine what they were doing. They don't even speak the same language."

Jake took a quick sip of his beer to hide a grin.

"Sarah, ma Cherie, some languages are universal – and require no words." Louie's tone implied he was talking to a child.

"Oh." Sarah straightened with realization. "Ohhh-h-h-h."

"Exacteament." Louie turned to Jake. "Did you see anything while you were out?"

Jake shook his head. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Yesterday afternoon I went up the way you asked, and just loafed around for a while. I didn't find anything. I flew on to deliver some cargo. Corky and I camped out on the beach and lifted off this morning. Went back up there, didn't see anything, and finished the cargo run."

"Hmmm, it is possible you were looking in the wrong direction."

"How's that?" chorused Jake, Sarah, and Corky.

"I was speaking to the good Reverend at lunch. He was good enough to inquire among his congregation. He said that two fishermen who visited our island with some pearls, grew quite agitated when he asked about devil birds."

"Oh, really?" Sarah's body was taught, but her eyes showed only innocent curiosity.

"Oui. They told him that they had seen a giant bird with great black wings striking ships with forks of lightning. The problem is that the sighting was 400 kilometers to the south east."

Jake looks thoughtful. "That sounds like a big storm. There was a big one down that way a few weeks ago."

"D'accord. Although Jacques is convinced the damage to the boat our three friends arrived in looks like the kind of damage that might be done by a tracer; the good Reverend makes an equally convincing case for it to be the work of embers from a volcano. There are several in the region that are semi-active and their description of their island suggests they live near one."

"So this might be nothing more than a scare we can explain with natural forces." Jake looked relieved.

Sarah kicked Jake under the table. He looked up to see her shaking her head no.

"Who can say, mon ami? It is possible that our new friends have their directions all wrong. If so, they will have a hard time finding their way home. It is certain that we will wait until the old man recovers. He is breathing better, and rest is a healer all its own."

Sarah looked hopeful. "So you think he is going to recover?"

"Oui. He is looking better and his sleep more natural. I am veree optimistic. Now, I must be about my customers. Sarah, ma Cherie, you should be ready to sing veree soon." Louie smiled and stood to go.

Sarah smiled and looked over to Corky. "Corky, why don't you go check the piano and get ready to play. I'm sure Jacques is ready to make his rounds."

"Sure thing, Sarah." Corky eagerly stood and headed for the piano.

Jake remained at the table, waiting expectantly. As soon as Louie and Corky were out of earshot he had his question. "What was the big idea kicking me under the table?"

Sarah leaned forward to whisper. "I've got a new mission. There've been rumors of airplanes harassing shipping. I'm supposed to see what I can find out."

"So, do they think there's any truth in these wild stories?"

Sarah shook her head, laughing as if Jake had told a funny story. "No, not until I told them. They think it's worth checking out."

"Where are the ships being attacked?"

"I don't have any firm coordinates – just somewhere to the east of us."

"That's a lot of territory."

"I know, but keep an eye out, will ya?"

"Sure. You want to come along? We'll find an excuse to fly something somewhere." A discrete clearing of the throat across the room started Sarah looking about. "I gotta go. We'll talk later." She stood up to walk to the piano.

Jake got up to stand at the bar, gesturing for some patrons to sit who had been waiting for a seat. They sat down gratefully. Jake smiled and reached for a beer. He nursed the beer through two of Sarah's songs. Corky's performance on the keyboards was flawless. As Sarah's voice wavered in and out of key, Corky subtly shifted to accommodate her voice. Jake shook his head once more that so much talent would be hiding in this backwater region in a bottle. A drunken sailor lurched to the bar next to him.

"Say, flyboy. Doan I know you? You're the one they was lookin' for a while back. Wasn't you supposed to report for duty in China."

Jake looked at the soiled whites, and the scuffed shoes. He carefully considered the bloodshot eyes before him.

"Yeah, well … they decided my leg wasn't fit for duty."

"Yeah" The sailor belched. "Don't look to me like it's botherin' ya none."

Sarah had started the third song of her set. The blues tune seemed an intriguing counterpoint to the sailor's belligerence.

"Look, buddy, appearances can be deceiving."

"Who ya callin' buddy?" the sailor staggered closer to Jake. His breath made Jake's eyes water. "I doan wan no yella commie callin' me buddy."

"Ok, I'm sorry. No offense intended. Let me buy you a beer and we can listen to the music." Jake started to turn toward the bar and motion for another two beers.

"You can keep your beer. I ain' drinkin', with no coward, neither. Whatsamatter you woan fight for your country?"

"This jacket says I have been fighting for my country."

"I know allabout youse Flyin' Tigers. You're mercenaries. Paid killers." The sailor turned toward the rest of the room. "Probably bombed innoc … inno … innocent women 'n' kids. That's about your style, ain't it, Commie?"

Before Jake could reply a pair of Shore Patrol Marines walked up to either side of the sailor. "C'mon, pal. You've had enough." A slim Warrant Officer walked in behind them, stepping aside to let the three exit through the batwing doors.

"'T'sall right. I need sum fresh air anyhow."

Her song finished, Sarah moved next to Jake – eyes flashing. "I can't believe you didn't punch that big lug."

Jake looked at her, his eyes vaguely haunted. "What's the point, Sarah?" Jake shrugged. He wasn't quite willing to admit that he has had the same questions from time to time, and an occasional bout with guilt. "He's entitled to his opinion."

Jack barked twice.

"Thanks, Jack. You know he was just drunk. In a few days he'll be gone and we'll never see him again."

Jack barked twice more as Sarah is about to reply.

Jake muttered another comment, almost to himself. "Besides, those who fly into a rage usually have a bad landing."

Jakes eyes took a far away look and Sarah wondered what, or in typical feminine fashion, who he was seeing.

Louie walked up unnoticed. "I can't believe it. There is nothing broken. Jake, how can I show a profit if I cannot overcharge you for breakage?"

Jake returned with a start. "Sorry, Louie. There just didn't seem to be anything worth fighting about." Jake finished his beer and walked off without another word.

Sarah stomped her foot prettily, causing auburn curls to bounce. "That man! I've seen him fight at the drop of a hat. Now he does this. And they talk about women being unpredictable."

Louie picked up a glass from the bar and checked it. "Non, ma Cherie, our Jake is very consistent."

"How can you say that?"

Louie pulled his spotless white handkerchief from his pocket and began absent-mindedly polishing the glass. "He told you himself. He doesn't fight when he is angry. He only fights when he sees the reason."

Jack barked twice.

"What do you mean, Louie?'

"It means, ma Cherie," Setting the still spotless glass down. "that Jake Cutter only fights for a cause. That makes him one of the most dangerous men on this island."

"He fought for money in China."

"Non, that only keeps him from explaining the real reason. He had a cause there as well – to protect the idea of freedom – to defend the poor against a more powerful aggressor. And – he was willing to coolly risk his life for people he didn't even know. As I said, a very dangerous man." Louie dusted off his hands as if closing the subject and walked away.

Sarah stared at Louie's retreating back, then she looked down at Jack, sitting patiently.

"Did you understand that?"

Jack barked twice.

"Will you explain it to me?"

Jack stretched out, his chin on his paws and uttered a long, low whine.

"Well thanks!"

Jack's two cheerful barks only served to irritate her more.

Explanations

Jake walked down to the Goose to let his head clear. He'd really wanted to punch out the sailor but it would have been pointless. It just brought the ghosts out of the shadows. Fallen comrades stared accusingly. They seemed to be asking why he was here, safe, when others were out dying. Their accusations echoed his own guilt, both for not being there, and for not wanting to be there.

One of the shadows seemed to solidify and his voice grew. "I've been there, remember. You're no coward, pal." Jake was startled. He hadn't noticed the slender, average looking warrant officer. The brown eyes looked friendly, but veiled. "However, I have to wonder about your loyalty again."

"Say what?"

"Imagine my surprise when I received a report that Princess Koji was still alive. I made a fool of myself insisting I had seen her dead body with my own eyes."

Jake made a helpless shrug with his hands out to his sides. "Who knew she had a perfect body double, right down to the tattoos?" Koji's tattoo was distinctive with the sunburst overlaid by a Celtic knot, both pierced by a double edged dagger. She jealously guarded it as her personal trademark,

"So you're not denying that you knew she was alive?"

"Not hardly. She almost shot me down when I approached Matuka with the body that was supposed to be her."

"You mean she almost had you shot down."

"NO, she was flying the fighter."

Josh's jaw dropped and then closed into a grin. "Why am I not surprised?"

"When she climbed out of the fighter's cockpit, I thought I was seeing a ghost." At least that was true, Jake thought, but not the way anyone else would interpret it.

"You could have told me."

Jake looked extremely uncomfortable. "I felt such a fool."

Josh clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll forgive ya, pal, if you'll just tell me your secret. How do you get all these rich and gorgeous dames to fall all over you? I look at you and I don't see it. Guess I'll have to try that shy, bashful approach. Sheesh, a Japanese Princess, a wealthy heiress – why can't I have that kind of luck?"

"Don't think you want it. At least two of them have tried to kill me."

"What a way to go."

Jake paused. "Speaking of going, what happened after we left? How did the mission turn out?"

Josh stopped smiling. "Don't think you have a need to know, old buddy. Sorry, but if you run into those two again, the less you know, the better. Let's just say that we're watching things."

Jake shook his head. "I hate to think Muri died for nothing."

"Was that her name? Looked to me like you had something going there as well. She sure rushed to your aid in the fire-fight."

"I'd told her to go to her cabin to wait it out. She decided that the Princess wouldn't have stayed there. She'd join the fight to protect her interests, not to mention she loves anything that is deadly or risky in nature. So, Muri came out to join the fray. And it got her killed."

Josh looked skeptical. "So you're saying it was all part of the act."

Jake nodded. "Yah, it was all part of the act. If the Princess would've been there, her servant girl had to do the same. And Koji would have been there, loving every minute of it."

"Yeah, that dame probably pulled the wings off butterflies when she was little."

Jake couldn't argue. Little did they know that the subject of their conversation, an icily beautiful woman, stood on the deck of her teakwood junk, the Forbidden Breath, moving toward Boragora at a speed belying the antiquity of the hull design. This very same Princess Koji, called Dragon Lady by some, but always Princess to her face deserved both titles. She had inherited the title Princess from her mother, at her grandfather's displeasure. Her grandfather was a Japanese warlord. His daughter had dishonored him by running away with an Irish sea captain. The resulting exotic blend of Irish and Asian yielded a daughter with astounding beauty. She displayed a noble bearing born of Irish Kings, blended with the blood of a half-drowned survivor from the Spanish Armada. Although those around treated her as a lady of Japanese royalty, her form-fitting tailored khaki blouse and pants, with red sash holding both a pistol and a sword, seemed more in keeping with a Pirate. It wasn't her only contradiction. Koji had grown up to become her father's chief aide, running the business for him. The beautiful body carried a quick, sharp brain with a real sense for business opportunities and profit. Eventually she inherited his shipping interests and his organization. Building on that, she defied convention by creating her own empire on the edge of the Japanese mandate. She could provide almost any service, for the right price.

Koji had a spider web of offices located throughout the South Pacific islands outside the Japanese Mandate. There she could meet with the members of the European community that lived and plotted in Indonesia. Her home island, Matuka, was her personal garden paradise, a very pleasant place - as long as you stayed on Koji's good side. It was her haven and retreat. Most people came to Princess Koji. Today was an exception.

She was attended by a small man in full, red lacquered leather armor, whose only hint as to his age was the salt and pepper appearance of his beard. Todo was probably the only man living who could speak bluntly to Koji without fear of losing his head. He was old school Samurai, and had served her mother until her death. He'd remained as Koji's personal bodyguard, confidant, and head of her security forces.

If there was a crooked scheme going in the islands, Koji at least knew about it from her vast network of agents and spies. The odds were good that she was involved. All of Indonesia was under a cloud of tension, as Japan readied for war with the rest of the world. Koji's maternal ties to Japan, and the proximity of her small empire to the island nation, suggested that her loyalties should lie in that direction. She often gave lip service to such loyalty. However, her real loyalty was to her personal god – Profit. She intended to work both sides to her advantage. There were devils in this deal, but they weren't birds.

Strange sighting

Interesting as the demon bird tale was to Boragora, along with the mystery natives, and Josh's world of intrigue, life went on and Jake had to fly cargo to make enough to pay off his sizeable debt to Louie. Truth be known, Louie had already written off what Jake owed, and his expenses were hidden in charges to other customers. But, it suited Louie to let Jake think he was carrying the bill, keeping his friend handy. Louie envied Jake his freedom, and often relived his own younger experiences in Jake's adventures. On the other hand, Jake's presence allowed Louie to find out about events beyond the island, and in such cases as the search for the devil bird, Jake was a willing set of extra eyes.

Early the next morning, Jake and Corky prepared to set out on another flight; this time, loading up medical supplies for a small missionary outpost about 300 miles to the south east, near Tubavu. Jack sat nearby supervising.

Corky was desperately wanting a drink, but knew better than to ask. Today he would be working. It was one of his few remaining points of pride – he never drank when working anymore. He knew the cost would be too terrible, and was unwilling to pay it again. The craving was making him slightly sick to his stomach and he was dreading the possibility of rough air.

"Hey Jake, I sure hope we have good weather where we're going. I don't think I can handle any turbulence."

Jake shook his head, trying to stay patient. "Relax, Corky. I was on the radio with some sailing masters in the area and they said it was smooth sailing all the way."

"Yeah, Jake, but we're flying."

Jack barked twice.

"See, Jake. Even Jack knows the difference."

Jack growled.

"Er, sorry, Jack. I, I, I just meant that ship reports aren't always reliable."

Jake bent over to pick up another box. "Corky, I'm sure their reports are as reliable as your memory."

Corky looked hurt. "Awwww, that's not fair, Jake. Just because I don't always remember things. Like that message I was supposed to give you from Josh this morning. I remembered that."

Jake stopped. "What message, Corky?"

"You know. About the … about the … aww. I already told you."

Jack barked once as Jake stood there shaking his head slowly from side to side. Corky stared from one the other in confusion.

"Jake, I know I told you …" One bark interrupted him. "Sure, I told you about an hour ago that Josh …" Another bark. "That Josh wanted you to …" Another bark. "Jack, I wish you'd quit interrupting me. I'm trying to remind Jake that Josh wanted him to … wanted him to …" Corky's voice trailed off as he struggled to remember. "Jake, don't you remember me telling you?"

Jake half smiled. "I guess I forgot, Corky." He loaded the last box into the Goose.

"That's not good, Jake. You shoulda remembered. It was important."

Jake placed on hand on his friend's shoulder. "One of us will remember, shortly."

Corky nodded grimly, picked up Jack and started to climb into the Goose.

Minutes later, Jake completed the pre-flight and looked out the side window. He shouted "Clear!"

With the ignition off, Jake used the starter to crank the engine. Radial engines had a tendency for the oil to collect in the lower cylinders and if you didn't crank the engine a few times to clear the cylinders, you could blow a piston during start up. The starter on the left engine whined as it turned the engine crank and spun the big prop. After a few turns, Jake flicked on the ignition. The engine coughed a few times, then with a big burst of smoke, caught and settled down to a ragged roar. Starting the right hand engine, Jake gently maneuvered the winged boat away from the dock. Once clear, the Goose taxied across the lagoon swerving to the left and right as Jake ran up both engines to test the magnetos. Finally, trailing the rainbow colors of a thin oil film on the water, the Goose took to the air.

Lucky for both of them, the air was smooth and they had no trouble with any of their stops. They'd worked through lunch shifting cargo and were glad to get back in the air and their sandwiches. Jake never liked to eat where natives could watch. He always felt guilty.

Mid-afternoon saw Jake and Corky flying a leisurely course at right angles to the course that would take them home. They'd finished their SPAM sandwiches that Jake had had made by the Monkey Bar kitchen staff that morning. For some time, Corky had played with the radio trying to find a station with news from home, and when that hadn't panned out, he'd pulled out his harmonica and started playing a mix of jazz and blues tunes. On some of them, Jake added his tenor, and the two managed to have a pleasant afternoon.

Jake had been lucky. The mission had several 55-gallon drums of gasoline. The grateful missionaries had let him refill his tanks from their supply. He'd filtered the fuel through charcoal placed in the funnel used to keep gas from the old wobble pump from spilling on the wing. He was fairly certain that had removed enough of the impurities to prevent the carburetors from gumming up. With the extra fuel, Jake figured he could fly a northerly dogleg home. He had the engines throttled back to 65% cruise to improve range. When Jake and Corky had rebuilt the wrecked Goose they'd salvaged, they'd had to find new engines. What they'd found were out of a crashed bomber. Between the increased power of the larger engines, and the more efficient props they'd adapted to the Goose, they had a lot more power to work with. True, some of the modifications they'd made required more maintenance, but the extra power they didn't need provided a savings in the long run, and made options like extended cruise at reduced power actually feasible.

A flash to the far north east caught Corky's eye. "Jake, there's a plane." Jake, who'd been checking the position of the sun, looked in the direction of Corky's extending hand and finger. Obligingly, the afternoon sun caught a reflecting surface and winked at Jake and Corky. Jake's eyes, sharp as any eagle's, an essential characteristic for any fighter pilot who hopes to survive, picked out a distant shape, decided it was flying away from them, and automatically plotted an intercept course to come up behind and below the unsuspecting flyer.

"You gonna follow him, Jake?"

Jack, who'd hopped up on a seat in the cabin to look out a starboard window barked just once.

"Jack's right, Corky. I don't think I have enough fuel to follow very far. I'd just like a closer look. He's not going very fast." Jake started a shallow dive as he nudged the big radials up to 90% power. The Goose obligingly picked up a few knots airspeed. "I want to approach from behind and below." Jake explained to Corky and Jack as he retrimmed the aircraft. "I'd just as soon he not realize that I'm following him."

Jack barked twice. Corky looked relieved. The next few minutes were spent watching the distance close and comparing the distance left, the distance home, and the remaining fuel. Corky watched nervously as Jake leaned the fuel mix and trimmed the Goose very carefully. "Jake, the engines are going to run hot."

Jake nodded. "But I'm looking at that squall over there. We'll fly through it and cool the engines. It will give us a little more chase time."

"Hope you know what you're doing, Jake."

Jack barked once. Jake gave him a dirty look and Jack let out a soft yip. Jake looked disgusted. "That wasn't very convincing."

Jack whined and looked back out the window.

Just as the three friends cleared the squall, they found themselves with a clear view between clouds of the target. From below, it was an ugly cross-shaped outline. From a distance, the body appeared black. It appeared to have only one engine in the nose.

"Jake, that's sure a big single-engine plane."

Jake nodded, his face thoughtful. They couldn't see any identifying markings, just a black cross-shaped silhouette against the high sun.

"And ugly to boot. The wings are straight, and the wingtips are square. I keep thinking it should have three engines. Still, I've seen one of these before."

Corky kept looking at it. "Could it be a Stinson A? The Aussies have a couple of those."

Jake shook his head side to side. "The Stinson wing is more rounded, Corky. And the fuselage is shorter, almost hunchback. Like I said, it's familiar. I've seen these before."

Jake gradually added power to pull closer to the transport.

Corky looked at it for some time. "Looks like the nose is painted yellow, Jake."

Jake nodded thoughtfully. "Can't make out too much detail, but I'm not sure I want to get much closer. The Aussies have a few AVRO 610's copied from the Fokker design, but they're high wing as well." Jake paused. "That plane has a lot of wing span. You know, something about that profile … I've got to believe that's a German design. See how the ailerons and elevators stand out from the wing instead of being faired into them. That's part of why it's so slow."

"I don't know about that Jake, but that corrugated skin looks like somebody built a plane from old barn roofs, or maybe left the plane in the rain too long and it wrinkled." Corky laughed at his own joke. "Get it? It's all wrinkled."

Jake smiled absently and then his eyes took on a sharper focus of recognition. "Corky, I've got it. That's a German Iron Annie."

"What, Jake? Iron who?"

"You were right the first time – it's a what, not a who. Iron Annie. It's a Junkers transport. I saw one once on a mail flight into Canada. It only had one engine just like this one. I saw more of the three engine versions when I flew in Spain. Both sides used them. They were used as supply transports, and some were equipped with a .50 caliber machine gun on a dorsal track, and two .30 caliber guns operating from side windows. A few were fitted out as bombers."

"Jake, I thought Germany wasn't allowed to build war planes."

"Well, Junkers designed and built a whole series of planes. One was a transport. It started out with only one engine, like this one. Lufthansa requested the design be modified to three engines. I'd heard about the three engine planes being sent out of the country to be converted into war planes. They got a good workout in Spain and proved to be very reliable. Still, they are awful slow."

"What's a German transport doing here, Jake?"

"I don't know, Corky, but something rotten is up. We need to look into it."

Jack barked once.

"Uh, Uh, Jake, I think Jack is right. I think we need to stay far away from wherever that thing is going."

"No, we need to check it out. Sarah will want to know."

"Why would Sarah care, Jake?"

Jake mentally kicked himself. After all this time, Corky still didn't know Sarah was working for the US government as an observer in the French Mandate. Observer! A spy by any name is still a spy. "You know how curious she is. She always wants to know what is going on in the islands."

"Jake, you know what they say about curiosity, and I don't have nine lives." Corky looked increasingly nervous. Jack barked twice.

Jake leaned back in his seat, neck stiff from staring out so long at the mystery ship. He rubbed his neck and looked at the fuel gages and the cylinder temps. There are no old, bold pilots. He sighed and nudged the Goose over into some clouds as he pulled back on the throttles.

"You're right, Corky." He pulled a battered chart from the pocket next to his seat. He looked around for islands that might help him mark his position. Finally he found what he was looking for. "We're right here. Our heading is pointed here. We'll come back later and follow this line. We don't know if he is coming or going, but we know he is here."

"That's something, Jake. Do you think this has something to do with the islanders and their Devil Bird?"

Jake stared at the chart. "I don't know, Corky, but we'll head back and tell Louie. See what he wants to do."

Corky looked relived. "Yeah, Jake, he'll know what to do."

Jake nodded and turned the Goose for Boragora. Corky picked up his forgotten harmonica and played a happy tune.

As the three friends finally get close to the cove, Jake saw a familiar sailing vessel riding at anchor a few miles off the island. He starts to have an uneasy feeling. "Princess Koji."

"That's it, Jake. Josh wanted me to let you know that a patrol plane had spotted Princess Koji's junk sailing this way." Corky looked relieved.

It was Jake's turn to look uneasy. "Looks like she plans to come into the harbor in the morning. I wonder what she wants."

Corky slid his harmonica into his jacket pocket. "It won't be anything good."

Jack barked twice in agreement.

"You can make book on that." Jake agreed as he lined the Goose up to fly low over the lagoon. He tipped the Goose on one wing to come back around and make his final approach to land. "If things weren't already crazy enough, I'm sure it won't be any simpler with her here."

Corky watched the water approach the hull. "Jake, do you suppose she knows anything about the Devil Bird?"

Jake was tempted to agree but his sense of fairness overrode his suspicions. "Corky, I honestly don't see how. If the birds are attacking to the southeast, it is away from her island, and outside the Japanese Mandate. What profit would there be for her in terrorizing a few natives?"

"I don't know, Jake, but I don't believe her coming here now is a coincidence."

Jake merely grunted as he pulled back on the throttles to bring the Goose down to the surface of the lagoon. Anyone watching would have been amazed at how lightly such a heavy craft was able to touch the water and settle in. The engines roared briefly as the Goose moved purposefully to the dock. A slight figure in a white sundress was leaning against a bollard on the side of the dock. Jake waved out the window as he shut down. Corky moved into the bow of the plane and tossed Sarah a line. She stood there holding it till Corky jumped to the dock. Realizing that Sarah had no idea how to tie the Goose down, he took the line from her hand and tied it to a cleat on the dock himself. Jake came out the back hatch carrying Jack, with a chart sticking out of the pocket of his leather flying jacket.

Sarah placed both hands on her hips and huskily said "hey, flyboy, looking for a good time?"

Jake just grinned at her.

Keeping her pose. "Tonight's special is cold beer … or … me. Whaddalitbe?"

Corky looked between Sarah and Jake. "Iffn it's all the same to you, Sarah, I'd like a beer." And started up toward the bar.

Jake choked back a laugh as Sarah turned to watch Corky proceed up the beach. "Well! I like that." And she joined Jake in laughter. Still smiling Jake walked up to her and held out his elbow, his hand at his side. Sarah linked her arm through his, and they walked companionably up the beach.

Softly she whispered "Did you see anything."

Jake looked nonchalantly up at the sky. "We saw birds … and a few fish."

Sarah slapped his shoulder with her free hand. "Jake Cutter, that's not what I mean and you know it."

Jake looked over his shoulder. "We saw Princess Koji's junk a few miles out from the island."

Sarah looked disgusted. "That's not what I mean either." Before Jake can respond. "But I wonder what she's up to. We haven't seen her here."

Jake nodded. "Good. If we're lucky she'll keep going."

Jack trotting just behind them barked twice.

Eagerly, "anything else?"

"We did see a JU-52." Jake replied in a tone that implied that it was no big deal.

"Oh! Well, if that's all … Wait a minute. What's a JU-52?"

Jake grinned. "It's a German transport plane, an unusual one with only one engine. Germany armed a few of the three engine versions for use in Spain. Looks like they dusted off one of the earlier versions and sent it here."

Sarah looked uncertain. "Would it be unusual to see one of those out here? Where would its home base be? How did it get here? What was it doing?"

Jake held up his hand to slow down the torrent of questions. He stopped in an open space where he could watch to see if anyone was listening. "There were so few of the JU-52/1M configurations that I'm really surprised to see one way out here - that is very unusual." He ticked that off on one finger. He took hold of the next two. "I don't know where we find its home base, AND, I have no idea how it got here." He gripped the fourth finger. "What it was doing, was flying north." He dropped both hands to his sides.

"I'll have to radio in the details. They're going to want to know more."

Jake nodded. "I can give you exact map coordinates and heading."

Sarah nodded thoughtfully. "I'll need to put that in my report."

Jake looked hopeful. "So, are you going to mention me in the report, this time?"

Sarah looked down at the toe of her sandal. "I'll say I got the information from a dependable source."

Jake looked at her. "So that's it? I'm just a dependable source? That could include Jack here."

Jack barked twice.

"Jake" Sarah pleaded. "You know that you're not supposed to know that I'm working for the government. It's a secret."

Jake thought about it for a minute. Was she supposed to know that they already knew that he knew? Or was that a secret? He had no instructions from Josh on that, and he had gone back to the Hancock for the time being. Oh no. He wasn't going down that line of thinking. It gave him headaches. He looked at Jack who obligingly answered his unspoken question with a single "Woof!"

He smiled. "OK, Sarah. I sure don't want you to get into any trouble."

Sarah gave him her 40,000 watt smile. "Thanks, Jake. You're swell."

Jack barked once.

Sarah looked down at him. "Oh, don't be a spoil sport, Jack. Jake's being nice."

Jack barked once more and trotted up toward the bar without them.

Sarah stared after him. "What got into him? Jake, you said the Junkers is a transport? How can it attack shipping?"

"Sarah, I didn't get close enough to check, but some of them were equipped with a top-side gun mount, and some were rigged to be used as bombers. That didn't do too well in Spain because the new fighters were so much faster. The Junkers was a sitting duck then. But out here, it would be fine."

"Did you see a topside gun, or bomb doors?"

Jake shook his head. "We never got that close. About all we saw was enough of the underside silhouette to recognize the plane. We didn't want to be seen if it was an armed gunship."

"Right. It's smart to avoid trouble."

Jake grinned his most innocent grin. "That's me. Avoid trouble at all costs. Let's go tell Louie what we saw."

Once again, the two friends walked arm in arm up to the bar. They walk inside to see Corky and Louie sitting at a table with their heads close together. Reverend Tenboom is standing at the bar behind them, listening intently. Jake and Sarah invite themselves to join the conversation.

" … an we followed it until Jake figured we had just enough gas to get home." Corky concluded, reveling in the presence of an audience. "Ain't that right, Jake."

Jake smiled at his friend. "What I heard was sure correct."

"Tres interessant. We have an unknown German plane operating in the islands."

"Idt iss nodthing, Herr Magistrate." Willi's voice was disdainful. "Vat's another tramp flier roaming about der islands? How many places do you know that would immediately recognize Captain Cutter's Goose? Ja, ve know it, but there are many islands where he been has nodt."

Louie nodded thoughtfully. "Oui. We cannot assume that this is any more than an honest pilot working his trade route." Willi nodded gratefully. "Jake, where did you see this plane?"

Jake pulled the chart from his pocket and spread it on the table. "Here's our course. We spotted the Junkers here." His finger pointed at a mark on the sheet. "While we followed him, he stayed on this heading?"

Willi looked thoughtfully at the map. "Could you tell if he vas coming oder going?

Jake held his hands wide, shoulder height, helplessly. "I don't know. Without knowing his base, I have no idea."

"Ja, we are no closer that we were. If you draw a line south from that position, what do you find?"

Louie looked thoughtful, "C'est possible. You did say that the natives saw a bird attacking shipping to the south?"

"Oh. Ja. To the south. But that may have chust been a storm. It would be good, however, if we were to know where this plane came from."

"Jake, could you do a search to the south?"

Louie's question caught Jake off guard. He was watching Sarah. She wasn't saying anything. Just listening intently. Once again, he reminded himself that this was no empty-headed society girl.

"What? OH, sorry. I wasn't listening. I was thinking." Jake temporized. Jack barked just once. "Stow it, Jack. Nobody asked you." Jack put his head down and whined softly. Jake looked at him. "No, I don't think you were kidding." Jake looked back at Louie.

"I was wondering, mon ami, if you would be willing to fly to this location tomorrow and follow the heading backwards?"

Jake stared at the map. "Don't remember much out there, especially gas. I'd need to carry a couple of drums extra to extend the range."

Corky protested. "Jake, we can't go out tomorrow. I promised to look at the Commissioner's launch when he comes in. Iff'n you don't know where you're going, you shouldn't be flying alone."

Sarah saw her opportunity. "I'm bored sitting around here all day. I'll go. You'll let me, won't you, Louie? Please?"

"Do I have a choice? You can fly around in the plane all day, or stay here and tell me how bored you are." Louie smiled. "Of course, it is for Jake to decide. Whether to go flying with a very lovely young songbird, or with a dog."

Jack barked once, with a growl for emphasis.

Everyone laughed.

"Sure, we'll leave at first light. I'll go down tonight and make certain the Goose is loaded. Louie, could Gascard make us up something to take along for lunch and snacks?"

"Certainmont, mon ami. It will be my pleasure." Jake and Louie both stood up to leave.

Reverend Tenboom also stood. "I haff received a communiqué from my bishop. He vishes a report on the status of my flock. I must prepare it for the next time the Clipper comes. I do nodt like this paperwork."

Louie nodded. "Oui, paperwork is the curse of civilization."

Keeping the Status Quo

A feminine figure approached the chapel doors. The head was covered by a dark scarf. Without knocking, she gently opened the door and walked in. Willy was in his small study bedroom with a single shaded lamp glowing just enough to show the map covering his desk. The shiny surface of the map reflected enough light to illuminate his throat and one hand making marks with a grease pencil. The rest of the room, including the sturdy bed, a couple of worn chairs in front of the desk, and a wardrobe were in deep shadow. The desk faces the door to the sanctuary, and divides the room into a public and a private space.

A soft contralto voice breaks through his concentration. "Bless me, father, for I have really sinned."

"I have no time for blessing now, daughter. Komst du back in der morgen." Besides, he thought, the young women on this island have no idea what sin is. His own world of treachery and deceit went far beyond his aspirations as a young Wermacht officer. He knew sin in ways this poor child never could know.

"I have much to confess, Father."

"Ve are the Dutch Reformed church, daughter. Not Catholic. Ve do not do confessions." He was talking to the scarf covering the top of her bowed head. She extended her hands out from her sides, then up to be clasped in front of her face.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned greatly and my need is a poisonous hunger."

"No blessings before 11:00 O'clock. I must be up wery early in der morgen."

"Would the little corporal bless me? Does he have the equipment, Kapitan?"

Startled, Willi looks up as the mystery woman moved her hands to slide her scarf back to reveal an exotically beautiful Eurasian face dominated by the almond shape of her large dark eyes, and high cheekbones framed by long, lustrous black hair. The almond-shaped eyes could be hot or haughty, but they retained the edge of a conqueror, which could have come from either side of her parentage. The dim lamp revealed a form taller than most Asian women, and fuller, but lithe and graceful, even standing still. The simple wrap-around garment highlighted the shape. The visitor used the extra height to good advantage, almost dominating Willi's tall and erect military carriage. Willi immediately recognized her as

"Princess Koji." The way he pronounced her name, it came out Kho-chi. "Vat are you doing here?"

The lovely bare shoulders shrugged, causing distracting motions that stirred Willi's overcharged senses. "I have to speak to the magistrate in the morning about business. But you said you needed to talk to me." She re-clasped her hands in front of her, head slightly bowed; penitent, if it weren't for the knowing smile. "Would you hear my confession, Father?"

Willi revised his earlier thoughts about sin out loud. "I'd sooner hear the Devil's confession. It wouldn't take as long."

Koji's eyes took on a knowing leer. "I could provide some interesting details."

"I'm sure, but it wouldn't help my need."

Koji laughed softly. "Poor Willi. A starving man in a land of plenty."

"What would you know about that?"

Koji turned serious. "Perhaps more than you will ever know. However, I understand you needed to talk to me and I am here."

"Ja. I must keep an old man alive, but not talking. He is unconscious now. It would be good if he stayed that way without anyone growing wiser about why."

Koji looked thoughtful. "You must keep him alive?"

"His death would be too suspicious. I want him alive, and people focused on his condition. I want them to wait for him to provide answers rather than go search for them."

"You intrigue me, Willi. Does this have to do with those ridiculously painted German airplanes buzzing about the shipping lanes? The ones the Japanese pilots have been told to ignore?"

"Verdammnt! Vat do you know about those?"

"Quite a bit, actually. One of my fishing fleet is delivering supplies to the island."

"Vhy was I not told that?"

"Really, Willi." Koji's English takes a faint Gaelic lilt. "Why would they be telling you? It isn't your cup of tea."

"Nein, Princess. But their problems seem to be vashing up on my doorstep."

"Yessss. That is inconvenient. What does that have to do with your old man?"

"Exactly, Princess. Der old man und his sons know the location of the base. I must keep him from talking, without killing him. If he dies, they will search for the murderer. They will also search harder for their home. As long as he is alive, they will be patient."

Koji nodded appreciatively. "You really are too clever, Willi. The little Corporal doesn't deserve you."

"Princess Koji. Der Fuhrer is a great man. I am honored to serve him and the vatterlund."

"Oh save it for someone who believes you, Willi."

"Vat do you mean? I am a loyal Churman."

"Come, Willi. You don't care any more for the Corporal and his Third Reich than I do. And I care nothing for it."

Willi looked distressed. "I must, Princess. Churmany is my home. Churmany will exist after Hitler and his Reich are a bad memory. Idt is my duty to make certain Churmany survives. To survive the Reich, Churmany must survive the var ve both know is coming."

"Really, Willi? Then why are you here? Why are you not fighting in Germany, or building a hideaway in South America?"

Willi's handsome face turned dark. The blue eyes blazed. "Der schvein in South America are looting Churmany. Dey do not care for the Vaterland. To them, Churmany is already lost. Dey are deserters."

"What do you think you can do here?"

"I haff friends. Many here are loyal Churmans. Ve can keep the old vays. Ve can help rebuild after the Reich is gone. Hitler may not survive the var."

Koji suddenly looked interested. She had started out baiting Willi, but now, she sensed something – something that could spell profit. "What do you mean, Hitler may not survive the war? Do you know something? Is Germany not happy with der Fuhrer?"

Willi looked frightened. "Nein, Princess. Nein. I know nothing. I only meant that in all the fighting, things happen. Nodthing is certain. Dat is all. Churmany loves Der Fuhrer."

Koji stared at Willi, unconvinced.

Willi's face took on a pleading look. "Please, Princess Koji. Vill you help me? I vill pay."

Koji nodded again. "I have an extract of some plants, that in small amounts, is a euphoric. In the right dose, it produces a coma. I will give you a vial and instructions. Mix it with his water. It will do him no harm for a week or two."

"Viele Danke, Princess." Willi looked concerned and then nervous. "Vhat will this cost me?"

"I'm going to see the magistrate in the morning. I'm going to complain about the loss of two ships in this area."

"Did those fools sink your ships?"

"No, dear Willi, these ships only existed on paper. This is a good opportunity to report their losses. The cargo they are supposedly carrying is actually on other ships. The insurance on both is quite high."

"Zoooo, you plan to collect the insurance."

"Yes. I have two fishing boats out even now, placing wreckage in the water. There will even be a couple of crewmen afloat in the wreckage. I plan to hire that lovely Jake Cutter to search for them in the morning."

"Ja. Dey can tell the story of der devil bird. Where should Jake find them?"

Koji pointed to a place on the map. "About here. The water is very deep."

Willi compared that location to where he had made other small marks. "Ja. Dat ist gutt place. That closely matches where I have told der magistrate that some of my natives have seen the devil birds."

Willi paused. "Ist gut. I will suggest that is where my information coincides." Willi straightened. "Very well, Princess. I vill see you in der morgen."

Koji moved past the corner of the desk, crowding Willi into the space behind the desk, and toward the bed. She placed a hand on the lapels of his linen suit coat. She looked at him expectantly.

Softly "Bless me, father, for I'm going to sin."

Willi stood very still, like a deer caught in a bright light. The look on his face was not eager, even as brightly colored cloth dropped to the floor revealing what should have been paradise.

Comparing Notes

Jake's plans for an early start the next morning were derailed when he came down to the Monkey Bar to grab a quick breakfast and pick up his lunch supplies. Two Malay mercenaries flank the door, keeping an angry Sarah from entering the bar.

"This is ridiculous!" She stormed to their impassive faces. "I live here. You can't keep me from my breakfast."

Wordlessly, the two mercenaries continue to block the door. Jake walked up.

"Jake, they won't let me go in the bar. That witch is in there, and I'm only calling her a witch because I'm too polite to spell it correctly!"

Jake peered over the batwing doors to see Louie and Princess Koji chatting casually at a table near the bar. Todo is standing at attention near the piano where Jacques is seated on his stool. He'd turned his back to the keyboard and appeared to be watching the discussion. From the slight angle to his head, Jake is pretty certain that Jacques is watching Todo out of the corner of his eye. With his elbows on the closed keyboard cover, both hands are close the black grips of the MAB-D's in their holsters.

"Jake?" Sarah asked for guidance.

Jake smiled at both guards, snap-kicked the right-hand guard in the groin, caught his sword right handed to block the sword stroke of the left hand guard; who found himself staring into the black stovepipe that is the barrel of Jake's .455 Webley revolver, extending steadily from his left hand.

A feminine voice barked "Todo! Hold!"

Jake looked over his shoulder through the doors to see Todo about four steps from the door, his sword half drawn. Louie stood behind him with one of Jacques' MAB D's in his hand. Clearly he was about to shoot Todo. The only two people to not move during this altercation, were Sarah and Koji. Sarah because she was rooted to the spot where she stood, and Koji, because she was amused to see how the drama played out.

"Todo, you're slipping. Look behind you." Koji stood, moving to place a hand over Louie's extended arm. "Magistrate, please do not shoot my chief of security."

Louie watched carefully to see Todo return his sword to its scabbard, then turned and bowed to Koji. Todo is clearly distressed. Louie smiled and lowered his arm. "But of course, Princess Koji. Sarah, Jake, come on in to _my_ establishment." He returned the pistol to Jacques, still seated on the piano stool, with a polite "Merci." Jake holstered his revolver, straightened his jacket, and escorted Sarah into the bar, still carrying his captured sword.

Todo dropped to his knees and bowed to the Princess. "Honorable Princess, I am dishonored. Request permission to …"

"Permission denied. You are too valuable to me. You will, however, spend the night meditating on the dangers of underestimating your opponents, and how you will revise our training, accordingly." Koji's voice was sharp. "You will also deal with those two. I do not wish to see them again." She looked at Jake as he and Sarah enter the bar around Todo. "Jake, darling, the Magistrate and I were just talking about you." She looked him up and down as she returned to her seat at the table. "I have need of your … services."

Sarah looked furious. Jake just laid the sword on the bar. It was a nice, light blade with a good balance. He found himself liking it. He turned to the table. "What did you have in mind, Princess? I'm pretty busy right now." Sarah nodded emphatically.

"This may be life or death. Two of my ships have reported being attacked day before yesterday. Both reported heavy damage. I'd gotten here as quickly as I could, when it dawned on me that your seaplane could get there more quickly than the Forbidden Breath. I have their radioed coordinates."

Louie looked thoughtful. "Princess Koji, when you say attacked, do you mean by pirates? Operating in French waters?"

Koji tugged down on her bush jacket to straighten it. "I don't know, Magistrate. Morning Glory merely radioed that they were being attacked. Dawn Lily's radio operator was babbling something about a giant bird. He seemed quite confused. Kept babbling about flames from the bird's eyes and loud screeching as it dived on the ship."

Louie looked at Jake and Sarah, his face impassive. "This sounds quite serious." He turned back to Koji. "You are quite certain of that last transmission, Princess?"

Koji appeared to tense. "I'm not in the habit of having my words questioned, Magistrate. I have reported his words accurately. I wish it investigated."

Louie permitted a slight, wintry smile. "But of course, Princess Koji. It is my responsibility to investigate all reports of wrong doing in my jurisdiction. I trust you will approve of my appointing Captain Cutter and Miss White as my representatives in this preliminary phase of the investigation?"

Koji took a deep breath. "I know the capabilities of Captain Cutter, but I don't understand how he could have much use for the limited talents of a screeching bar maid."

Sarah leaned across the table. "Now you listen here, sister …"

Jake quickly placed a hand gently on Sarah's shoulder, slowly easing her back to her seat. "She's flown with me before and has excellent eyesight. She'll be quite useful in the search."

Koji looked unconvinced. "If you say so. It is your aeroplane and you can clutter it up however you please. However, I wish to go as well."

Jake held out a hand to forestall a protesting Sarah. "The Goose isn't a transport, Koji. If we're to be able to recover potential crew, I can't haul a bunch of passengers. It defeats the purpose."

Koji sniffed. "I won't be any problem, Jake, and I'm at least as good a spotter as she is. And, I'm paying for your time."

Jake looked to Louie and shrugged. "OK."

Sarah whirled in protest. "Jake, we can't have her along on a miss …"

"Missing person search? Sure we can. And, it's my plane. The decision is mine." Jake reached for the map in his pocket. "Princess, let's see where your coordinates are on this map."

As Jake unfolded his chart on the table top, Louie looked at Jacques. "Jacques, please go to the church and ask the good reverend to come over. I wish to compare his notes with those of Princess Koji."

Jacques almost, but not quite snapped to attention. "Oui, Magistrate." He hurried out the door.

Jake put his hand over the marks of his sighting as he leaned over the table. Koji traced a long red lacquered fingernail along a printed meridian line until it stopped about 25 nautical miles off a cluster of island. "Morning Glory radioed this position." She moved her finger about 100 miles south east. "Dawn Lily's radio operator reported these coordinates."

Jake pulled a grease pencil out of his flight jacket pocket and marked both locations. He tapped the map with the blunt end of the pencil.

"Louie, what are the prevailing currents in that area?"

"Hard to say, Jake. If I were to search, I would sweep to the north east."

Jake looked grim. "That's what I was afraid of. Fuel will be a problem."

Gushie rolled in with a large tray across the lap of his wheel chair. "I've brought out some breakfast. Princess Koji, I brought some fresh fruit for you."

"How very thoughtful. Thank you. Magistrate, as usual, your hospitality is superb."

Louie merely smiled as Sarah and Jake helped Gushie load the table with food. Jake put his coffee cup over his earlier marks, freeing his hands.

Koji pretended not to notice the ploy as she placed a finger on one island. "Here. My people keep a cache of supplies here on this island. It has been useful to have a place to offload cargo when encountering violent storms. We have some generators that burn your petrol. You could refuel here and then start your search."

Louie looked at the map. "I was not aware, Princess, that you maintained what I can only call a base, in French waters. You should have reported this. This should be part of a treaty agreement."

Koji smiled. "But, Magistrate. I am reporting it. I was merely testing the feasibility before going through all the bother to negotiate a treaty. All that messy paperwork. Besides, you know I can't negotiate a treaty, as that is a matter between two governments. I'm merely a poor business woman trying to make an honest dollar."

Sarah choked as she sipped her juice. Jake covered his smile with his napkin. Louie merely smiled. "Then, perhaps, Princess, we should consider a simple business agreement among friends. I'm certain we can reach a mutually beneficial agreement."

"But of course, my dear Magistrate. I'm certain we can find a mutual interest." They smiled at each other. Jake thought it looked like two sharks trying to decide how to eat each other.

The moment ended as Reverend Tenboom came through the batwing doors looking drawn and pale. He stopped on the threshold when he saw Koji. Koji glanced at him, smiled and went back to studying Jake's chart. Louie looked concerned.

"My dear Reverend. You have been working much too hard. You need rest. I regret to have disturbed you, but I must ask some questions. Perhaps I may repay you with some breakfast?"

Willi ran a hand through his hair. "Danke, Magistrate. I feel a need for sustenance." He staggered to an adjacent table and fell into a chair. It creaked, protesting the sudden weight."

Louie placed a cup of coffee in front of Willi. "Blessings can be exhausting, can they not."

"Nein, Magistrate. This vas no blessing. Ich verked hard vor mine Vat … er … Church last night. I did my duty as best as I could."

Koji almost purred. "I'm certain, Reverend, that you did your very best. But is it not a blessing to serve?"

Sarah carried a plate of food over and placed it in front of Willi. "This will help you get your strength back."

Koji looked concerned. "Perhaps you could find him some oysters. In my culture we believe them to have certain restorative powers. He'll be back to giving blessings in no time."

Willi seemed to turn even more pale. "Nein. My flock is wery devout. They will not need blessing for some time. It will give them a chance to focus on prayer."

Jake, only half understanding the situation, nodded. "That's right. Teach them the meaning of 'no bless oblige'."

Louie looked pained. "Reverend, as reluctant as I was to disturb you, I must ask your assistance. From your conversations with your flock, where on this chart would you say the attacks occurred?"

Willi hastily downed a bite of toast and stood to look at the chart. He moved to keep the table between himself and Princess Koji. He carefully looked at island names, drew lines with his fingers between islands. Finally, sounding confident, "der stories reported attacks here, here, und here."

Jake quickly marked the positions on the map. "Princes, please repeat your coordinates."

Koji pointed to her two locations.

Louie studied the results. "They are less than seventy-five miles apart. C'est tres interessant. I would suggest you check this out immediately. Whatever arrangement you make with Princess Koji will be of no concern to the French Government."

Jake nodded. "Corky and Jack have the Goose primed and ready. Let's saddle up. If there are men in the water, they've had a long soggy wait already."

Gushie had rolled into the kitchen during the discussion and rolled back out with a box on his lap. "Jake, here's some food, hot tea, and a bottle of cognac for warding off the chill."

Jake smiled his thanks as he lifted the heavy box to his right shoulder. "Let's go."

Rescue

At the dock, all goes well until Todo strode to the dock. "Princess, I do not like you going alone with this barbarian."

Koji laughed. "I'm hardly alone with him – although that could be more fun. I assure you that I will be quite safe."

Jake turned from his preflight. "Besides, there isn't room if we hope to pick anyone up. We will be fully loaded. I've tossed a couple of life rafts in the hold in case we need them."

"True. Todo, go back to the Breath and set sail at best speed for the locations we discussed. We will give any survivors the means to stay afloat until you arrive." With that, Koji took Jake's proffered hand and climbed into the Goose. Jake followed her and waved at Todo as he closed the hatch.

To maintain peace, sort of, Jake installed Corky in the co-pilot's seat and made certain that both women were safely strapped in to the new wicker seats. He moved forward into the cockpit to see Todo standing just off the port engine's prop. He shrugged and completed the pre-flight. Finally, Jake shouted through the open window of the cockpit "Clear!"

Todo refused to move. Jake shouted "Clear" again. Todo stood firm. With the ignition off, Jake used the starter to crank the engine. Radial engines had a tendency for the oil to collect in the lower cylinders and if you didn't crank the engine a few times, you could blow a cylinder during start up. The starter on the port engine whined as it turned the engine crank and spun the big prop. After a few turns, Jake flicked on the ignition. The engine coughed a few times, then with a big burst of smoke, caught and settled down to a ragged roar. He almost caught Todo as the big blade came around. Jake grinned as Todo glared. This was one time Jake was perfectly willing to match blades with the tough little samurai. He eased the throttles forward and the little seaplane moved obediently, even eagerly away from the dock. It was time to fly.

In all the hustle and bustle of taking off, nobody noticed that Reverend Tenboom had left the bar and instead of going to the beach had hurried to his church. Securing the front door, and making certain that none of his parish had slipped in to wait for a blessing, he opened the space under the pulpit and dropped into the small room under the church. The radio batteries were fully charged and the tubes warmed quickly. Soon he was on frequency and transmitting a coded message about how he had sent the Magistrate's agents on a wild goose chase to the south east.

Miles away in a crude grass hut along a rough airstrip, Rolf and his radio operator decoded the message. Rolf held the flimsy sheet in his hand. "Der womanizing fool and der Japanese whore are trying to lead the American spy on a vild goose chase."

The radio operator nodded. "Ja, with them being that far off course, dey vill never find us. Ist gut plan."

Rolf spat contemptuously. "Bah, idt is too complicated. Dis spy is very clever. He could still upset our plans. Ist better dey meet an unfortunate end. Some where far away. Send der transport. Make sure dey return nicht."

The radio operator nodded. "I vill inform the Kapitan of our plans."

"Nein, dumpkoff! Let der fool remain ignorant. Der less he knows, der better."

Unaware of events unfolding to the north, Jake flew directly to Koji's island supply cache. If you didn't know it was there, it was perfectly concealed. Next to a stream, a small cove of trees concealed a camouflage net of woven grass over a small building. Inside there were tools, a couple of sleeping pallets, and behind the building, drums of lubricants, diesel fuel and gasoline.

There, he and Corky topped off the tanks. It was good to be out of the plane. The two women, relegated to the passenger compartment radiated hostility. Jake thought that the Chinese individual who pictured trouble as two women under on roof, should try them under or on one wing. It didn't matter that the day was a hot summer day, Jake kept expecting ice to form on the wings.

While the tanks were filling, Jake unfolded his chart and laid out a search grid over the coordinates. He was still curious why Koji wasn't using her own considerable resources for this search. Why was it so important that Jake be involved in the search? Mentally shrugging, he created a diamond grid with a point extending in the general direction of known wind and currents.

Once preparations were complete, Jake took off for the first reported position. The ocean was bare. Jake wasn't surprised. He simply oriented the Goose on his search grid and started the fist leg. He carefully trimmed the Goose to maintain altitude at 1500 feet. He adjusted the throttles for best rate of cruise and carefully leaned the fuel/air mixture to extend his time aloft as much as possible without overheating the engines.

Two hours of hot, tiring, and boring work, just flying back and forth, squinting into the light reflected off the water gave everyone headaches. Everyone except Jack. After a while he had simply gone back and composed himself for a nap. Sarah had just taken a sip of tepid water from a canteen filled in the supply depot creek when a flash of non-white color caught her eye.

"Jake, what's that?"

"What? Where?" Was his only reply as he looked back to her seat on the starboard side of the Goose.

Sarah leaned back in her seat to extend her arm to point at the viewport. "I saw something over there." She leapt out of her seat to stand in the doorway, looking past Corky's seat. Her stance blocked Koji's view into the cockpit, and through the small window at the same time. She leaned back, a venomous look on her face.

Jake had a hard time keeping his eyes forward. He felt Sarah's warmth and caught a scent of her perfume. A light, fresh scent. His eyes strayed to the blouse beside his head, stretched tight. He forced himself to look out Corky's window. A moment later there was a second flash.

"There," she squealed triumphantly. "I did see it."

"You sure did," was all Jake had time to say as he banked the Goose toward the glint. The sudden move caused Sarah to counter balance to the left, and she bumped into Jake, her side brushing his cheek and knocking off his cap. He quickly put his right arm around her hips – to steady her, he told himself. Remembering Koji in back, he quickly let go, but not before Sarah looked down and gave him a friendly smile. He smiled back and used his right hand to pull back on the throttles. He then adjusted the fuel mixture for a richer feed as he pushed the engines for more power.

"Make sure you're strapped in. Landing on open water can be a little rough."

Jack, awakened by the tumult barked twice in agreement.

Sarah moved back to her seat, buckled in, and gave Koji an innocent, happy smile. Koji attempted to appear indifferent.

"I think we found some of your crew." Sarah quipped.

"There were twenty people on that ship. I only saw three below."

"OH, I'm sorry." Sarah looked crestfallen. "But, at least two are better than none, aren't they?"

Koji smiled thinly. "While I … appreciate … your effort, I must now face telling the families of the rest of the crew that their men won't be coming home. Some will wonder why these two were the ones who survived."

Sarah turned to look forward. "Oh. I'd think they'd be glad at least someone survived."

The Goose was soon circling 500 feet over a raft with two figures waving frantically in it. Jake recognized the ornate sunburst design stenciled on the raft as one matching a tattoo on Koji's shoulder. He didn't need to be close to know the rest of the design was a Celtic knot made of two snakes devouring each other, wrapped around a two-edged dagger.

Jake instructed Corky to drop a smoke flare to check the wind direction. Usually, he just watched the wave tops, but this time he wanted to be absolutely certain. Once the flare touched the surface and the plume stabilized, Jake circled down wind and set up to land into the wind. The Goose floated down to the surface and taxied to within fifty yards of the raft. Corky was stationed at the rear hatch with a crossbow. When Jake shut down the port engine, Corky fired a bolt over the raft. When it hit the water, the light line attached to it lay across the center of the raft, between the two sailors. They grabbed the line and pulled a heavier line to them. Corky made the near end fast to a cleat just outside the Goose's hatch and they pulled their raft to the Goose. Corky helped both of them into the small cargo area behind the seats. Koji had risen and was standing in the aisle to greet them. They immediately fell to their knees and bowed. She fired off a series of rapid-fire questions. They both answered without looking up from the floor. Corky watched as he retrieved the line and quarrel. They were still talking when he finished stowing the line and clipping the crossbow to the back side of the aft cargo hold bulkhead.

When finished, both men scuttled backward to sit on the floor against the rear bulkhead. Koji moved forward to sit in the co-pilot's seat in the cockpit. Sarah moved forward to stand in the doorway.

Koji never gave Jake a chance to ask a question. "These two are deckhands from the Morning Glory. Apparently they are the only survivors. They say a huge roaring bird attacked their ship laying eggs of destruction. When the crew moved off from the ship in the life boats, the bird spat fire at them. These two were in the water and were missed. They found the survival raft floating in the wreckage and waited until they were sure the bird was gone before inflating it. There was the third sailor, but the sharks got him."

Sarah shuddered. "How awful."

Koji merely shrugged. "It was his karma. Just as it was their karma that kept these two alive."

Jake stalled Sarah's protest. He had pulled out the chart when he shut down the engines to mark their location. "I'd have thought they would have drifted further during the night."

Koji gave another graceful lift of her shoulders. "Perhaps the wind and current ran counter. They are too dazed to know."

Corky peered over Sarah's shoulder. "Jake, I gave those two some water. What do you want me to do with the raft?"

Jake looked at Koji. "It's your raft, but I really would prefer not to take on the extra weight."

Koji nodded. "I have several. It has little actual value. Sink it."

Jake looked at Corky and he nodded and headed aft. As he went back, he pulled a folding hunter's pocket knife from his dungarees. The razor sharp blade made short work of the air chambers of the raft, and a chunk of lead ballast aided its journey to the depths. He watched it for a second and then closed the hatch.

"All secure, Jake."

The whine of the port engine starter was Jake's only reply and the Goose was soon taxiing across the water to resume the search. With no need to continue the search for Morning Glory, Jake shifted positions to begin the search from Dawn Lily's last known position. Soon they were engaged in the mind numbing back and forth search for survivors.

Duck, Goose, Duck

Afternoon passed into evening and the searchers found nothing. The two rescued sailors sat quietly in the back of the cabin. There was no conversation as each focused on their portion of the search. Finally, Jake turned to look through the cabin door.

"Princess, it's getting late and I'm getting low on fuel. We'd best go back to your island and refuel. Maybe we could spend the night there, and start again in the morning."

Koji shook her head, shouting above the roar of the engines. "Can we get back to Boragora tonight?"

Jake glanced at the sun and the instrument panel. Most of the instruments were working for a change. "No problem, once we refuel."

"I would prefer to return to Boragora. Elements of my fleet will be here tomorrow to take up the search. I do not believe they will find anything." She shrugged "I was hoping that we could get here quickly enough to find survivors, and we have done that."

Jake nodded his understanding and banked to a heading that would take them back to Koji's supply depot. Straight line, the distance was not all that far. The sun was low on the horizon, and the Goose's tanks were reading almost as low, when Jake spotted the island.

He was concentrating on heading the Goose's gradual descent into the wind when he heard a strange chatter. He knew instantly what it was, but didn't believe it. At least until he saw tracers streaming past his ship. Unfortunately, as the shudder of the airframe confirmed, he wasn't seeing all of them. Some were passing through the cabin and the wings.

"Hold on!" was all he had time to say as he pulled up and back on the yoke to move the Goose from the path of the bullets. He rammed the throttles forward to full power. The Goose leapt forward, clawing its way out of the path of the bullets. He felt, more than heard additional bullets impacting the fuselage. There was a moan from the rear but he didn't have time to check it out. An indignant yip told him that he would be paying for his abrupt maneuvering for a long time. He rotated the Goose about its long axis as it climbed, eyes searching the sky. He found his attacker coming out of the low evening sun. His quick change of direction and the unexpected speed of the Goose now had the tracers falling behind. He topped out of his climb and pointed the Goose at the other plane. That would present a smaller target and protect those in back. Besides, he thought, he was in no position to run. He needed the fuel below.

The other plane fired again and Jake watched in dismay as the tracers impacted his starboard float, shredding it. He noted tracers originating on the nose of the attacking aircraft and from an open turret on the top. Jake banked just enough to pull the wing away from the stream of bullets, and then dove to gather airspeed. The banging sounds from the starboard wingtip were alarming. Someone in back screamed, and Jake was pretty sure that it was Sarah. Right now, his main focus was evasion.

"Corky," he yelled. "Get a couple of the smoke grenades from that storage space behind you in the passenger cabin."

Corky looked at him from the co-pilot's seat, his eyes wide open. "Jake, why are they shooting at us?"

"I don't know. Get those grenades." He was beginning to get an idea. He couldn't risk Sarah and Koji in an extended gunfight in the air. He just needed to get the attacker to leave.

Still, Corky didn't move. He seemed frozen in his seat. "We're hit, Jake."

Jake set his jaw as he stared forward. He kept the nose of the Goose pointed at the attacking ship. To turn and run would have left him more vulnerable. "I know. Get the grenades. And bring a live one, too."

Corky finally unbuckled, staggering as Jake bobbed up and down trying to spoil the attacker's aim. Time stood still as Jake waited for Corky to come back. He dove toward the water, trying to pass under the oncoming plane. For the first time, Jake got a clearer picture of the aggressor. It was the large, transport sized plane with the now familiar straight wings and tail. The nose was yellow brown with the rest of the underside of the aircraft painted black. There was some sort of pattern in the paint but he couldn't make it out. Deciding to pass under the attacker had turned out to be a bit of luck because the plane couldn't bring the guns from the topside dorsal turret to bear on the Goose. The only problem was the he had lost sight of transport.

Tracers approaching the Goose from the side made it clear that the armed transport was turning to follow. Jake set the Goose into a hard dive for the water. He held the dive until the last moment, hoping his opponent would oblige him by misjudging his altitude and crashing into the water. More tracers signaled Jake's disappointment. The pilot seemed too canny for such simple tricks. Jake realized that the Goose was slightly faster than his attacker and decided to climb for altitude to buy Corky time to find those grenades. The aggressor stayed behind him. Jake throttled back to reduce the load on his straining engines. Even if he could run away, he couldn't run far – he needed the gas below. The heavy demands on the radials were sucking gas from the tanks at an alarming rate. He was well into his 40 minute cruise reserve.

The Goose clawed its way to six thousand feet. Dodging bullets, Jake headed back toward the island. He kept jerking the Goose left, right, up, down, spoiling the attacker's aim, stalling for time. Unfortunately, the abrupt moves made Corky's job harder. Jake kept eying his fuel guages. From the smell in the cockpit, he'd developed a leak somewhere, either from vibration or a bullet finding a fuel line.

Corky finally managed to get the box open and snag the grenades. He took hold of the bulkhead and pulled himself back into the cockpit He looked distressed.

"J-J-Jake, there's a dead sailor back there."

"Not now, Corky!" Now, Jake needed to put his plan into action.

"I – I - I just thought you should know, Jake."

"Fine, now I know. Later."

Keeping one hand on the yoke, Jake put two smoke grenades in a net bag he used for sandwiches on more peaceful flights. He ignited the timers and hung the bag out his open window. Suddenly black smoke pouring from the bag made it look like the Goose's port engine was badly hit. He shut down the engine and feathered the prop.

Corky's eyes opened wide in alarm. "Jake, why'd you kill a perfectly good engine?"

Jake didn't bother to reply. He had his hands full of unhappy airplane. Now, all his thrust was off center. He headed for the supply island in a long, fast crabbing descent. Holding his breath, he spun the Goose a couple of turns, trying to look like he was fighting for control. It wasn't much of an act. The Goose wasn't designed to respond to the full power of the oversized engines, let alone when all the power was concentrated on one side. At least, as he passed through each turn he was able to locate the other plane. It had stopped shooting and seemed just to be waiting.

Jake lost sight of the attacker as he set the Goose down on the water hard and fast. Water sprayed everywhere from the impact. The Goose was almost skipping sideways across the waves as it headed for the beach. He approached the beach too fast, the hull skittering on the water as he led with the good wing. It wasn't coordinated, but he didn't dare let the damaged wing down to the water. He would then lose all control. Chopping power at the last moment, the Goose slammed into the sand hard and decelerated abruptly throwing everyone around the cabin. It's momentum carried it over the sand to the edge of the trees.

On board the transport, Rolf and his copilot watched the Goose dive toward the ocean's surface. They were amazed to see the plane survive the hard contact with the water. They watched it slide across the water, out of control an slam into the beach. It was amazing that the plane didn't nose over right then. They watched as the plane slid into the trees. All they could see was a part of the tail assembly protruding at an odd angle from the trees, and clouds of black smoke. A loud explosion threw flaming debris back onto the beach. Satisfied, they circled the column of smoke twice, and headed for base.

Waiting

The tranquil morning in the Monkey Bar was shattered as a disturbed Rev. Tenboom burst through the batwing doors.

"Herr Magistrate. Have you heard anything from Jake and Sarah?"

Louie looked up from his conversation with Jacques at the piano. "Nothing, Reverend." He moved toward the door. "How is our patient?"

"No change." Willi took a deep breath. "I'm worried that Jake might have had some trouble."

Willi was struggling with the fact that he knew Jake had had some trouble. When Willi radioed in his daily report on the old man's status, Rolf had bragged how he had put an end to that meddling American spy. He described how he had watched the plane fall out of the sky, bounce across the water and crash into the island. He pridefully described how the plane had been unable to stop on the beach and slid into the trees to tear itself apart. The explosion and the flaming debris on the beach made it pretty certain that there had been no survivors. Willi had been furious and made it clear that not only had the Gestapo agent made things worse, but that a valuable ally in Princess Koji had been aboard that plane. He expressed his concern about what would happen when the French authorities found the wreckage and realized the plane had been shot down. Headquarters had not seemed concerned about that. Rolf's description of the wreckage might be taken for an accident if it was ever found.

Rolf had clearly won this round. With the Goose out of the way, the French authorities would have no easy way to search for the source of the Devil Bird attacks. Koji, was an unfortunate victim. Besides, she was a loose end, being able to locate the island. In the long run, it was probably better that she were dead.

Willi was forced to swallow his protests. What did he care for these individuals any way? There was no way he could reveal his friendship to these people. If he did, he would be shipped to the Eastern Front. Someone else would have to care for his flock. He looked bleakly at his options. Accept the loss of his friends and stay on this warm, sunny island full of willing young women, or take up a rifle in the Eastern Front's harsh winter. At that point he had to shrug. He'd miss Jake and Sarah. Headquarters repeated the instructions to keep the old man in the comatose state for a while longer. Willi had agreed and signed off. Now, his problem was to figure out how to get the Magistrate to go looking for their mutual friends without giving anything away. "I am vorried that they did not come back last night."

Louie shrugged. "I had hoped they would return. They might have radioed. However, the Goose, she is temperamental. Since they had an adequate supply of fuel, they may have extended the search. We should hear something later today."

Willi looked sad. He knew better. He dreaded the notion of telling the Magistrate that their friends were gone. Even though easy going, Willi feared very little. He could easily crush the Magistrate with his bare hands. He was sure he could even handle Jacques and his guns. Even so, he feared the dapper Louie. Survival took more than strength, and whatever that more was, Willi knew the Magistrate had it in abundance. "Ja, I hope you are right. I go to check on our patient again."

Willi stepped outside the door and stood under the faded sign that read Monkey Bar and Restaurant. He looked around at the bright day. Then, as if making a major decision, he straightened his jacket, climbed the stairs, and walked across the balcony to the old man's room. The two boys were out again. The pretty young island girl watching the old man jumped up and inserted herself under the priest's arm. She had to stretch to wrap both arms around Willi's broad chest. She squeezed hard. Willi looked at her fondly and squeezed back. Farli was a recent convert and very enthusiastic attending him.

"He moved this morning." She said brightly. "He said words I cannot understand. Then he be all quiet again. We could go have blessing before his sons come back."

Willi looked at her, tempted. Such a delightful way to put the frustrations of the day behind him. Still, he had responsibilities. "Not now, Little One, maybe later." He moved his arm from around her to reach in his pocket for the potion he had received from Koji.

Farli pouted prettily. "Not fair. Leela get blessings."

Willi looked at her. "Nein, Farli, Leela has not gotten a blessing lately, although she has been a very good girl."

"She has, too. She say she get blessing from old man's son. She say he give good blessing. I say he not priest, so he can't give real blessing."

"That is right, Farli. You must beware false blessings."

Farli looked pleased. "I say so to her. She say she felt spirit move within her. She say if spirit moves in her, it good blessing."

Willi looked down at the vial in his hand. To continue his mission, to keep the old man quiet, he needed to administer it then. The old man's silence was vital to Rolf's mission. In Willi's mind it had ceased to be important to the Fatherland. It was a Nazi mission. It had disturbed the peace of his islands, and killed his friends. Rolf's boasting words about how they would see which der Fuhrer would favor, the Gestapo or the Wermacht rang in his ears. His hand clenched tightly about the vial and he replaced it his pocket.

He looked down at Farli's eager face. "Come, my child. You must experience a true blessing. It will help you avoid the false."

He put his arm possessively around her and slowly guided her to the door. He looked over his shoulder, back into the dim room. He could clearly see the old man lying on his pallet. "Ja" he said softly. "Ve shall see." They left the room. Down on the beach, the youngest son was just returning from a fishing expedition with the locals. He was tanned, rested, and healthy looking. Although they shared no language, Willi pantomimed that his father was still sleeping. He pointed to his two eyes, and then pointed to the boy. He nodded, bowed to the group, and hurried up the beach. Satisfied, Willi guided Farli toward the chapel.

Bruises

The ticking sound of hot, abused metal kept interfering with the ringing in Jake's ears. His nostrils rebelled at the smell of hot oil, cordite, and dust. Jake sneezed and regretted it as the demons hammering on his brain only hammered harder.

Sarah's voice groaned from the cabin. "I hurt too much to be dead."

Jake gingerly unbuckled to turn back toward the cabin. "Is everyone OK? Sorry it was so rough." He looked about the reasonably intact aircraft. "I'm glad we didn't crash."

Koji looked at the wreckage in the cabin, the dead body rolled up against the last row of seats. "Tell me, Jake Cutter. How do you distinguish this mess from a real crash?"

A faint smile cracked Jake's grim expression. He pointed out the intact windscreen. "We didn't hit the trees. That would have been bad. And, most of us are alive. It was a good landing."

With that, Jake pushed past both women, stepped over the body, opened the rear hatch and jumped down to the sand. He walked around the Goose, assessing the situation.

Luckily, Jake's struggles to keep the plane relatively level had succeeded, and he'd managed to not drag a wing or nick a prop. The smoke pots were still sending up plumes. As soon as the Goose stopped, he had popped the live grenade and tossed it out his window. He'd prayed the sand would soak up most of the explosion and shrapnel. The grenade obliged by burying itself in the sand and exploding mostly straight up, throwing sand and tree braches everywhere. Several branches had fallen across the Goose, masking its profile from above. It looked like a real crash and sounded like a real crash. Jake rubbed his aching neck and thought ruefully that it had certainly felt like a real crash. The others gradually found their way out of the plane.

Jake stared a long moment at the groove in the sand, then searched the sky for the attacking plane. The charade had apparently looked pretty convincing from above. Once he was certain the attacker was truly gone, he walked away without a word.

"Jake," Corky shouted. "Where ya goin?"

Jake ignored him and walked away down the beach.

Sarah looked at his retreating back, hands on hips. "If that was a good landing, I don't want to see a bad one."

Corky, also watching Jake, tried to defend his friend. "By the basic definition, Sarah, that was a great landing."

Koji emitted a grunt of disbelief. "I fail to see how just avoiding disaster can be called a great landing."

Corky turned to her. For once he was defending Jake, and forgot his fear of the Princess. He held up one chubby, grease-stained finger. "The definition of a good landing is any landing you can walk away from." He held up a second finger. "A great landing is when you can use the plane again." He pointed to the Goose with pride. "She may not look like it, but she doesn't need much at all to get her back in the air. She's tough, and Jake got her on the ground in one piece. We'd better get busy."

Sarah looked back down the beach. "If there's so much to do, why is Jake walking off? We need him here."

Corky looked down the beach. "I – I don't know. Maybe he's looking for something."

Sarah's gaze shifted from Corky to Jake, and back to Corky. "Shouldn't one of us go with him?"

Koji was the one to answer her question. "Jake needs to be alone right now. If you really are his friend, you will understand that."

Sarah started to argue but Koji cut her off, pointing to where Jack stood on the sand. "Even he understands." Koji looked at Corky. "Tell me what to do."

Jake had ignored the voices of the others. Jack had started to follow, only to stop and whine at the look of death in Jake's eyes. Jake walked far enough away to not be able to see the Goose. Voices were shouting in his head. They drowned out those of his friends. All he could see was a sunny day in Spain. There were no clouds in the sky that day, either. Charley and Mitch were talking back and forth over the headset frequency of their three plane flight. The old Breguet BR XIV A2 Open cockpit bi-planes weren't fast, but they were reliable and agile. They were good planes for ground attacks against enemy troops. Not only that, but it was easy to patch the bullet holes in the wings when the ground troops shot back at you.

A stray glint distracted Jake's musings about the beautiful day. Holding up his thumb to block the direct glare of the sun, he saw the three plane flight approaching. They were low-wing, modern aircraft, sure to be superior to the Bruguets. Jake knew they had to be hostile. He shouted a warning. They split up only to have the attackers all go after Charley. Jake tried to get him to come around where he could pick at least one off, and in fact, saw that he managed to hit one of the planes, but Charley's plane was already smoking. Charley was trapped in the flaming cockpit. Mitch was screaming over the com for Charley to jump. They both watched the flaming wreck crash in a war-torn field. Both were close the ground, streaking for the aerodrome, or at least, to friendly lines. Mitch dropped in on Jake's wing and Jake retarded his throttle just a fraction to let Mitch's slower plane keep up. Jake heard the chatter of machine guns and braced himself for the impact. None came. He looked over his shoulder to see Mitch's plane smoking. Jake didn't even think as he pulled up into a fast, tight loop to come around behind the attackers. He kept shouting for Mitch to dodge left or right, to dive or climb. Anything but stay straight and level. He opened fire on the third of the enemy aircraft even as Mitch's plane started to wobble. Mitch jumped from the stricken plane – without a parachute. Both fell from the sky. Jake kept pouring shells into the ship in front of him until it exploded. At these low altitudes, the Breguet was actually at an advantage. The other two were coming back around. Jake flew through the debris and cut between two hills. He hoped staying low and slow, close the ground would help him escape. The cold, harsh takka-takka-takka of the attacking guns told him the slow tactic wasn't working. He looked over his shoulder to see the two fighters hanging just above the hills, landing gear and flaps deployed to slow down, and stay with him. What superb flying. Tracers starting flying through his wings. Slugs hit his engine and it coughed and began to smoke. He saw a small valley with a stream running through it, creating a smooth bottom land. It was too short, but that was OK. He didn't plan to be able to use the plane again afterward. At the last moment, at the head of the valley, Jake chopped his throttle, pulled the nose up abruptly, and stalled the plane.

The two attackers flashed by, and he took one more shot at the closest one. He held the burst, overheating the barrel, and forced his staggering plane to point at the offending aircraft like an accusing finger. He watched in satisfaction as pieces flew from his intended target, satisfied that he'd made good use of his last shot. Then he concentrated on setting down the tattered wreck that earlier that morning had been a beautiful, if outdated airplane. He held the nose up as he approached the ground, more a servant of gravity power than horsepower. The plane touched down, but the damaged undercarriage sheared, dropping the plane on its belly, the lower wing ripping away as it plowed a furrow down the valley. Finally, the wreck skidded to a halt, and a dazed Jake Cutter crawled out of the cockpit to stand, amazed at his survival, at the side of his plane. He thought of his two friends, the jokes they'd shared at breakfast, and for the first and only time, he cried. There was no one to see, and he poured out his heart in tears and sobs, and guilt. Here he sat again, still alive, and another was dead, just down the beach. There were too many bodies. The names started to roll in his mind. A funeral cadence of dead friends and comrades – some from Spain, some from South America, and more from China. Each face was accompanied by an announcer, pronouncing the name in a somber, accusing tone. Another voice kept repeating his name, in time with the roll call of the dead. That voice became increasingly desperate.

"Jake … Jake … Jake, you OK?"

Jake felt the hand shaking his shoulder. "Jake … Jake … Jake, can you hear me?"

A familiar face seemed to bob in and out of the images in his mind.

"Corky? What are you doing here? You're not dead yet."

"Yeah, Jake. No thanks to that pilot and his gunners."

Two sharp barks announced another presence.

Jake looked around him in confusion, the mental movie reel forced into oblivion for another short time. The shadows retreated from Jake's vision. The bright sun and the warmth of being alive soaked back into his body. "How is everybody?"

Corky shrugged. "Except for the dead sailor, we're all fine."

One sharp, dissenting bark.

Corky nodded his head. "Jack says he was pretty shaken up in back. One bullet bounced off his tool box. And the Goose has at least twenty new holes in her. We got a bullet through the radio, which wouldn't matter since we lost the antenna in the landing. And the side is really badly scorched from the grenades."

Jake thought back. "The real problem is going to be that float. Not sure how I can take off without it."

Corky grinned. "I got that all figured out. But we got to get her back down to the water, and the holes patched. We'll have to get back to Boragora or Tagatya to get a new radio."

Jake wearily lifted himself from the sand. He started walking back to the portion of beach where the rest of the group waited. "I'll get her on the water again. You just work your magic with that float."

Corky's chest puffed out with pride and an unusual confidence. "Leave it to me, Jake. I know just what to do."

It was a long, cold night, but Jake wouldn't allow anyone to light a fire. His constant worry was that whoever directed the mystery plane might send it back to make sure they were dead. Instead, they used the starlight to jack up the Goose and lower the landing gear. Once that was done, it was easier to turn the plane around and face it toward the water. Jake had originally planned to float her before starting the engines, but his concern about the risk of dragging a wing on takeoff make him reluctant to do so. Corky remained mysterious about how he would remedy that loss of the starboard float. Instead, he worked steadily patching holes and removing the remaining debris from the starboard wing. He said it would help reduce drag once they took off.

Dawn was well past when the weary crew took a break to eat the last of the food packed the day before. Jake found a couple of cans of SPAM stashed in the aft locker, and a wedge of cheddar cheese, dipped in wax to keep it fresh. Cold water had provided an excellent beverage to top the meal. He was amazed at how Sarah and Koji had worked uncomplaining through the night. Not only had they not complained, they had worked side by side without arguing or sniping at each other. He wondered how long it would last. At least, the Goose was patched up as much as possible, refueled, and the engine run-up indicated she would fly. All the control cables seemed to be intact. Koji stood from finishing her meal.

"Jake Cutter, if you are to fly us back to Boragora safely, you must rest. We can take care of what remains to be done."

Jake shook his head. "I'm all right. This has been no different than flying in China. We'd fly sorties all day and rebuild planes all night. Fly again the next day."

Sarah stood to join Koji. She looked at Koji. "Men can be so stubborn." This earned her a confirming nod. "Jake Cutter, you need to rest. We're counting on you."

Jack barked twice.

"I'm all right, I tell you."

Jack barked once.

Jake gave Jack a hurt look. "You too, Brute?"

"They're right, Jake. You need to get some rest. If we get spotted you might have to … to …" Corky couldn't bring himself to reveal the Goose's secret. "You might have to do something" he finished lamely.

The sand looked soft and warm in the morning sun. Jake's arms felt unbearably heavy and his legs leaden. He started to stand, to prove he was fine. Sarah and Koji each took an arm, placed firm hands on each shoulder, and pressed him gently back into the sand. He nodded his surrender and closed his eyes.

The sun was directly overhead when a cold nose "whuffed" in his ear. Jake was instantly awake. Corky was standing at the tip of the port wing. "We're all ready, Jake."

Jake looked around at the otherwise deserted beach. "Where are Sarah and Koji?"

Corky looked embarrassed. "They went up the creek a little ways to freshen up. It's been awful quiet back there."

Jake shoved that to the back of his mind. "What about the float?"

Corky moved to show where he had been tying a piece of twine to something sticking out of the bottom of the port float. "It's easy, Jake," he explained proudly. "All I had to do was bore holes in the top and bottom of the remaining float. Then I whittled a plug to insert into the bottom hole. Then we filled the float with water. The weight of the water will keep the Goose from dragging a wing on take-off. Once you are in the air, pull the plug and that will retrim the airplane." Corky beamed.

Jake shook his head, amazement in his eyes at the simple, elegant solution. Hands on hips he surveyed Corky's work. "Corky, I've always said you were the best mechanic in the Pacific. You've … you've outdone yourself this time."

A rustle behind them signaled Koji and Sarah's return. Both looked closely at Jake. Koji looked closely into his eyes. "Captain Cutter, you look positively less dead."

Sarah giggled. "We can't have a corpse flying our plane." Her face grew serious. "Really, Jake, do you feel better?"

Jake grinned. "You guys were right. I feel much better."

Koji straightened. "I am not accustomed to having my judgment questioned, Jake Cutter."

Thankful that Todo was no where in sight, Jake grinned. "Please, Princess. Write it off to stress and exhaustion. I'll try not to do it again."

"Very well. This time." A faint smile touched her eyes, along with impatience. "Are we ready to leave?"

Jake held out his hand to the open hatch. "All aboard. We'll be in Boragora for dinner."

Plans

The large transport with the straight wings taxied back down the runway to the workspace sheltered under the trees. Pilot and co-pilot looked out the side windows past the yellow painted nose to watch the approaching end of the packed dirt and gravel strip. At the last moment, the pilot stood on the port brakes and swung the plane expertly around. Sweating men in shorts, heavy shoes, and little else moved quickly to shove the plane back into the revetment under the trees. It barely stopped before the rear door opened and two men tossed their bags to the ground, quickly following them to the earth.

Rolf came out from under a tent with the sides rolled up that served as the base command post. He's the only one wearing a full uniform. His was black worsted wool, slightly wilted from the heat, but every detail in place, including an impressive array of medals. His double lightning strikes and rank insignia indicated that he was a Major in the SS.

The two pilots snapped to attention with the stiff-armed Nazi salute. "Heil Hitler!"

Rolf returned the salute with exaggerated precision. Where other high-ranking members of the SS showed their superiority by the casualness of their salute, Rolf preferred to emphasize his devotion to Aryan perfection. "Heil. How vas der mission?" He saw that the wing mounted bomb racks were empty, and the caps gone off the MG 15 nose guns.

The pilot dropped his arm but continued to stand at attention. "Herr Major, we spotted the freighter where you reported it would be. We successfully bombed the ship. The secondary explosions confirmed its cargo was munitions. We straffed all those who jumped from the burning ship. There were no survivors."

"Sehr Gut!" Rolf walked over to examine the low-winged transport. The upper body of the fuselage was black. The nose was painted a bright yellow with fierce eyes painted just below and in front of the wind screen. Protruding from the eyes were the black muzzles of a pair of machine guns. A beak was painted on the forward end of the engine cowling. The undersides of the wings were painted black and grey and looked like feathers. The wheel fairings had been skeletonized and painted to look like talons, curled around the wheels. The tail assembly had white feathers painted on it in a fan. The overall effect was a very large and fierce bird of prey.

"What of those American fools?"

"We found them where you said, Herr Major. We caught them unawares." The pilot paused.

"Und?" snapped Rolf impatiently.

"Und we shot them from the sky."

"You are certain of this?"

"Ja wahol, Herr Major. They tried to land on a beach, overshot, and crashed into the trees. Ve saw the explosion and the fire. No one could have survived."

Rolf nodded and patted the flank of his brainchild. To take an obsolete single-engine Junkers JU-52, sneak it into a politically sensitive area, convert it into a warship against the Treaty of Versailles, and use it to prey on the enemy's shipping was an act of genius worthy of Der Fuhrer himself. He'd been pleased to find one of the few remaining single-engined versions of the venerable "Iron Annie". One in-line engine was much easier to maintain than three radial engines, and the simpler profile was easier to adapt to his scheme of terror - Hinder shipping, create fear, and keep the foreign authorities off balance.

Rolf questioned the legality of those foreign authorities. These islands were supposed to be German islands. They had been, before the great war, the so-called war to end all wars. Germany had been forced to bear the humiliation of being stripped of her colonies. Many of the islanders still had ties to the Fatherland. That was how he knew about the freighter and other important shipments. Dock hands had seen the cargo and notified him through a network of spies located throughout the islands. It was perfect. His network let him know the contents of almost every freighter in the South Pacific. It had been easy to sink strategic shipments and embarrass the respective governments. The hard part had been to leave no trace. The bird motif had created stories that no one could believe and reinforced the superstitions of the natives. It was getting to the local government officials as well.

Looking past the Junkers he looked fondly in the direction of his most recent acquisition. Concealed in a large cave back in the hillside, well back from the runway, was a true fighter. The low-wing Messerschmitt Bf109 monoplane would soon be ready to take its place alongside the Junkers and add its firepower during attacks. Like its larger companion it was painted with feathers on the undersides, and a fierce bird face on the nose. Gear fairings had been skeletonized and painted with talons. Both were equipped with sirens under their wing flaps to emit a screech similar to an angry, large bird to increase the fear factor. His superiors didn't know of this plane. He had located it in Japan where it had been acquired by Kawasaki Aircraft Engineering Company's head designer, a German named Dr. Richard Vogt. He had used it to demonstrate the merits of in-line, liquid-cooled engines. As Japan had moved forward with their improved Ha-40 engine, in their own airframe, it was no longer considered necessary. Several well-placed bribes had enabled him to make off with the fighter and ship it to the island on one of Koji's freighters, in crates labeled as truck parts. He'd lived with the shame of being denied the privilege of flying with the Luftwaffe, and now he would show them. All he needed was an important enough target. There were rumors, and he was eagerly waiting for confirmation. Soon. Now that he had those meddlesome Americans out of his way.

Rolf would have been less content had he known that a few hundred miles to the southeast, a familiar junk rested on a calm sea next to an equally familiar red and white seaplane. Jake hadn't been too happy setting down on the water with a damaged wing and hull, but Koji had insisted. Corky overcame his fear of Koji long enough to suggest that they use one of the Junk's lifeboats to support the damaged wing.

Koji proved herself to be a masterful actress as she explained their findings as if Todo had no idea that the whole thing was a plant. However, the sharp hiss he exhaled when he heard her account of almost being shot down, needed no acting ability at all. He stared intently at Jake, as if blaming him for the near death of his mistress. Koji managed his emotional surge with the ease of long practice. As she gave Todo new instructions and transferred the surviving sailor to the Junk, still another of her sailors was in the water refilling the Goose's remaining float for take-off.

Jake waited impatiently. His wounded leg was aching – a bone deep ache. Concerned, he hauled himself out of the forward hatch and climbed carefully on top of the wing, between the big radials. From the improved vantage point, he was able to scan the horizon. To the north east, he saw dark clouds building. To his practiced eye, they appeared to be moving west. If he didn't lift off soon, he suspected they would be flying into heavy weather in a leaky airplane. The prospect pleased him not at all. He called across the water to the Junk and informed Koji that they were running out of time and needed to continue to Boragora.

In doing so, Jake interrupted a strained conversation. Koji was resisting Todo's insistence that she return on the junk to Boragora. Recognizing the potential for eliminating several hours of delay by staying with the Goose, and burning to confront a supposed traitorous ally, she felt fully justified. Finally, they reached a compromise that didn't please Jake in the least. Todo climbed over the rail of the junk and onto the nose of the Goose. He clearly intended to return to Boragora with them. Jake protested, but Koji overruled him on the basis that she was paying him for his time. Rather than waste more time arguing, Jake loaded his passengers through the bow hatch, shepherded them through the cockpit to the cabin behind. He took a grim satisfaction at their unease as they splashed through water in the bow's bilges before stepping up into the cockpit. He only hoped they hadn't taken on too much water through the damaged hull to lift off. He'd had Sarah using one of the wobble pumps they used to pump fuel to pump out the bilges. She was relieved that that was over.

As soon as everyone was belted into their seats, Jake had members of the junk's crew push the Goose away from the hull and rigging. Once clear he started both engines. The junk engaged its diesel engine and pulled quickly away and down wind from Jake. Once the junk was safely clear Jake advanced both throttles and after a long run on the water, finally managed to haul the battered amphibian back into the sky.

Questions, Questions, Questions

Sitting quietly in the cabin, in one of the new wicker seats on the starboard side, Koji went through calming technique after technique to still a burning rage. It had been easier on the island, where there were so many preparations to be completed before they could return to Boragora. Now, as a passenger, staring out at the damaged wingtip, she had plenty of time to think about how she'd been double crossed. Silently, she vowed that she would make the priest suffer long and hard for trying to have her killed. She was certain it was his doing.

First, he would talk. She would know why a profitable partnership for all was suddenly expendable. What had changed in German policy, and how did it bode for Japan and her little empire?

Then there were the personal questions. Where was his honor? Typically, Koji didn't think in terms of love or loyalty. But they had had a relationship! It was a good one. They'd both collected pleasure and profit from it. She'd certainly had a lot of fun with him. Again, typically, she didn't consider how her teasing had made him uncomfortable – didn't consider how he didn't dare tease her back. She'd made sure he had his fun, even when she wasn't available. How dare he cast that relationship away without giving her proper notice. It was a cowardly act.

And that was what troubled her the most. Willi Tenboom had never struck her as a real coward. Easy going, yes. Prone to avoid conflict, certainly. But never a coward. More importantly, with his upbringing in the old Wermacht, she was certain he had a real sense of Honor. Granted, he was a womanizer, and a spy, but she had trusted his sense of honor. She had been certain that his need for order and honor would have kept him from betraying her. That was why she was willing to work with him. How could she have been so mistaken?

As she contemplated just how the questioning would go, Koji smiled. Yes, he would pay. Koji had not liked sitting in this fragile wicker seat, feeling vulnerable. It was undignified to be a passenger, unable to do anything. What a crude way to die – falling from the sky, shot down by a stranger whose face you couldn't see. There had been no way to defy them. Once again she was impressed by Cutter's resourcefulness. Simulating the crash to fool the attacker had been genius, if dangerous. He'd taken quite a chance with his precious Goose. And that landing had been anything but gentle. Still, they were alive, no thanks to Tenboom's scheming.

She hadn't liked feeling helpless. She would make certain that the priest felt everything she had felt before he died. But at least he would see the face that put a more permanent end to their association. She would demonstrate her sense of honor by facing him with his deeds. He would know that hand on the blade ending his life, and he would know why.

Sitting on the port side, where she couldn't see Jake, Sara shifted impatiently in her seat. The new wicker seats were more comfortable than the old seats, but gosh darn it she should be up front. She was on a mission and she always sat up front on a mission. Well, almost always. If that Japanese witch weren't here, that's where she would be.

Sarah tried to look through the doorway into the cockpit. She tried to will Jake to turn around and ask her to come forward. Sarah needed to talk to Jake. She made a point of not looking toward Princess Koji. Although they had been friendly on the beach, and worked together as needed, Sarah trusted Koji about as far as she could throw the island. She desperately wanted to believe that Koji was behind the attack, but couldn't even convince herself about that one. Why would Koji have herself shot down?

"Please look this way, Jake" she thought desperately. She had a million questions. Did he get a good look at the attacker? Was it the one he had seen before? Did it have any markings? Did he think it was the plane her superiors had told her to find out about? Why had it attacked them? How did it find them? Who was behind it? Sarah's head ached. She tried to compose a message to send out when they got back to Boragora. She couldn't focus. She could see Jake and Corky talking up front but the constant drone of the engines made it impossible to hear a word. Every once in a while, Corky would turn his head enough that she could see his lips move, but she couldn't read lips anyhow. Sarah wanted to scream, stomp her foot, anything to express her frustration, but she wouldn't. Not in front of the witch.

To make it worse, Jack had finally left his bed in the back to come up and lie down right in the doorway where he could watch both Jake and Corky. Even the dog had a better position than she did.

Excepting Jack, Corky was the least frustrated person on the Goose. He didn't have to supply answers, and he could ask Jake all the questions he wanted.

"Jake, do ya think that was the same plane we saw earlier?"

Jake checked the aircraft trim before answering. "I don't know, Corky. It seemed to be the same shape. But there's no way to be certain."

"Whaddya think, Jake?"

Jake checked the wings for moisture, such as would come from a leak. The Goose had just taken quite a beating. He was very concerned with the coming storm. His leg still ached. "What I think is that it was the same plane. I just never got a good look at it."

"Why did it come after us? We weren't doing anything to it."

Jake shook his head, baffled. "Corky, I just don't know. We've been snooping around quite a bit. Maybe they saw us the other day. Maybe we said something where someone could hear it. Maybe we saw something we shouldn't. I just don't know. It could be they were just out looking for something to attack and we happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I don't know, Jake, it seemed to me like he was looking for us. He came right at us. He seemed to know we'd be there and was waiting."

Jake shook his head again. "I don't see how. We didn't know we were going to be there until just before we left. There wasn't anyone in the bar that morning that we didn't know."

"D'ya think it was a spy, Jake?"

The only spy Jake knew of was Sarah, and he was pretty certain that she wasn't responsible. Then Jack barked twice, softly. Immediately, Jake turned on Jack.

"You think there was a spy when we talked about the supply island and the search?"

Two barks.

"Surely you don't think …"

One bark.

"Then who?"

Jack whined softly.

"Jake, I don't think he wants to tell us." Corky looked more concerned than puzzled.

Two barks.

Jake looked down at Jack. "We need you to tell us, Jack. Whoever it was almost got you killed."

Jack whined, turned, and trotted to the aft hold.

Jake looked at Corky. "What was that all about?"

"Golly, Jake, I don't know. I can't believe any of us is a spy. At least, I know I'm not – am I?"

Jake tilted his head to one side. "I don't know, Corky. That forgetfulness of yours is pretty handy. It could be a ruse. You might be a spy." He grinned at Corky's stricken look. "I'm just teasing. You're no spy."

Corky looked relieved. "You sure had me worried there for a minute, Jake. I'd hate to think I'd forgotten I was a spy. I wouldn't forget anything like that. Would I?"

"I don't think so, Corky. I wouldn't let you forget. But I'm trying to remember who was in that room. If someone in that room was a spy, we ought to be able to figure it out."

"I wouldn't know, Jake. I was down checking the Goose. I missed all the fun."

Jake stared out his windscreen, but he wasn't seeing sky. He re-created the room in his mind's eye. "When Sarah and I arrived, there was Louie and Jacques, Princess Koji, Todo, and two of her mercenaries. That's it."

"That doesn't give us much of a clue, Jake. You know what happens to spies in Princess Koji's organization. That leaves Louie and Jacques. That doesn't make any sense."

"You're right, Corky. It looks like a dead end. I'm still going to mention it to the Princess."

"I don't know, Jake, she can be awfully touchy about her people. She won't like you questioning their loyalty."

Jake thought back to another time when someone questioned the loyalty of her mercenaries. Her reaction had not been pleasant. He still thought that her people were guilty, but had never been able to prove it.

"I'll be very diplomatic, Corky."

"Yeah, Jake. You do that. I still wonder where that plane went to."

"I was too busy setting us down to pay attention to which way it left."

"I was pretty shook up. I don't remember much a nuttin. The grenade didn't help."

Jake shook his head. "The grenade helped a lot. It made the crash a lot more convincing."

"I dunno, Jake. I was pretty convinced already."

"All we needed was for the other pilot to be convinced. At least that part worked."

Jack gave two quiet "woofs" to let them know that he had returned.

Jake reached down with his right hand and scratched Jack's ears. "That's right, old friend. We lived to fly again another day." His eyes sought the storm clouds and measured their march across the sky with his compass. He nudged the throttles up just a bit. He didn't want to be in the air when he met that storm.

Celebration

The sun was setting on Boragora. It had managed to escape the storm clouds another day. The Monkey Bar seemed quieter than usual. Gushie was taking care of customers. Louie was looking busy inventorying the same rack of whiskey bottles for the third time. Reverend Tenboom was perched on a stool at the bar, staring morosely into a half empty mug of warm beer.

"Dere must be somet'ing ve can do."

"What would you suggest, Reverend." Louie expressed with patience, as it was apparent they had been over this several times before. "They do not answer the radio. I've alerted all ships in the area. Their search area is beyond the range of my launch. All we can do is wait."

"I haff a wery bad feeling about this."

"You should pray, oui? That is your area of expertise, is it not?"

"Ja, I haff prayed und prayed."

"Perhaps, you should find a member of your flock who needs blessing. Perhaps you would feel better."

"Nein, Herr Magistrate. I vould only be reminded of those two lovely women. To be cut off in the prime of life. To be called so early to the heavenly host of angels. Such a tragedy. Such a waste."

Louie turned from his task. "Somehow, Reverend, I am not ready to believe they are dead. If, God forbid, they are, I would not wish to speak ill of the dead. However, I would not expect both of them to be found among the heavenly host."

Ja! I know vat you mean. God would have to be wery merciful. But, would the Devil have her?"

Louie smiled the first genuine smile of the evening. "Oui! D'accord. And there, Reverend, you haff - have proven my point. They are fine. We shall hear from them."

At that moment, the roar of twin radials filled the bar. Both looked at the ceiling. Blue and brown eyes met. "Speak of the Devil?"

Louie nodded. "I feel a need for an evening stroll on the beach. Will you join me, Reverend?"

"I vould be delighted."

Louie paused to find Gushie. "Have Gascard prepare something and put it in the dining room. I have a feeling that our intrepid explorers will be hungry when they arrive."

Gushie took the empty tray off his lap and placed it on a nearby table. "I'll do that right now."

Louie nodded and moved forward to catch up with Reverend Tenboom at the door.

Willie was glad to have Louie's company as he walked down to the dock. Otherwise he would have made a fool of himself. Still, they were both surprised when they did not find the Goose floating at its usual spot along the dock. Voices down the beach started them in that direction. Shortly they came upon a battered and scorched airplane partially out of the water on the beach. The bow hatch was open, and it was clear that Jake had jumped from the bow hatch to come around to the rear hatch. He was helping Sarah down into the water.

"Mein Gott! Du bist alive!"

Jake looked over his shoulder. "Just barely."

Louie examined Jake's haggard face and the battered condition of the Goose. He noticed how Sarah sagged against Jake for a moment before straightening and wading the short distance to dry beach. "You look like you were in a crash, mon ami."

Jake turned to assist Koji from the plane. "Not quite, Louie."

Puzzlement crossed Willi's face. "Ve feared the vorst when we did not hear from you. Vat has happened."

Sarah spoke. "The worst almost happened. We found two sailors, but when we stopped to refuel we were attacked." Her hand pointed to the holes in the Goose. "We were almost shot down."

Willi met her just far enough from the water's edge to protect his shoes from getting wet. "My child, you have suffered such terrible trauma." He reached to stroke her arms, arching his body toward her. "Should you need anyt'ing, you should call on me. I am always ready to be by your side."

Koji also took a minute to lean against Jake, watching Willi very closely. "Captain Cutter was so busy trying to convince our attacker that we crashed, that we almost did."

"Indeed, Princess Koji." Louie was always mindful of the proper protocol. "The Goose seems somewhat the worse for wear."

Sarah used the distraction to pull away from Willi's ministrations. They both watched as Jake and Koji splashed up on the beach leaving Corky and Todo to fend for themselves. "Did you see your attacker? Habben Sie any idea vo bist?"

Jake shook his head. "It was some sort of armed transport. It might have been a Junkers JU-52 with a dorsal turret and nose guns. I can't be certain. Honestly, I was too busy getting the Goose on the beach and under the trees. We were lucky they didn't come back to make sure of the kill."

"Das Dumkopfen!" Willi exclaimed angrily.

"Pardonne, Reverend.

Willi struggled to pull himself together. "I only mean that it makes no sense to attack an unarmed seaplane."

Jake coughed into his hand.

Willi looks at his quizzically. "I mean, certainly, Jake Cutter is no danger to anyone. No offense, my good Herr Cutter."

"None taken, Reverend. He has a good point, though. What would anyone gain attacking us?"

Louie looked at the group. "Who knows? Jake, did the plane look anything like your mystery ship?"

Jake shook his head and raised his hands helplessly. "I don't know. It could have been. He attacked from behind and the one time I flew toward him, I had to contend with the sun in my eyes."

Willi looked very concerned. "Vell, you vere lucky you vere not killed."

"One of the crewmen we rescued was not so lucky … Reverend … Tenboom." Koji's flat voice cut across the evening. "After we pulled him from the sea, and had him safe aboard the Goose, two of the bullets passing through the Goose also struck him. I shall have to explain to his family that he is dead. I assure you, the responsible parties will pay." A tinge of icy resolve touched her voice. "All of them."

Willi paled as he started counting bullet holes in the hull of the Goose. Louie and Jake studied the two, sensing more than what was said. Louie's manner subtly changed and his whole bearing shifted from greeting friends to being a French Magistrate on official business. "Princess, this constitutes murder within my jurisdiction. I will launch an immediate investigation."

"Magistrate. While I appreciate your dedication to duty, I am perfectly capable of managing my own investigation."

Louie's voice kept its formal tone. "Princess Koji, I understand that you are upset. I also realize, in your domain, you are used to dispensing your own brand of justice. However, this is my jurisdiction, and the responsibility for dispensing justice within these islands is mine. You would do well to remember that."

Koji looked long and hard at Louie. She sensed again the steel in the slight figure. She reminded herself that she knew this pretty man was much more than he appeared. He was like herself in that regard. She nodded. "I will watch your investigation with great interest, Magistrate. I will be very interested in how your French justice meets my expectations."

Louie gave her a tight smile that never touched the eyes. "Princess, might I suggest that we pool our resources. If you are totally open with me, I shall be totally open with you."

Sarah interrupted. "Can we get off the beach. I need something to eat, and some different clothes."

"But of course, where are my manners? Please, all of you, come up to the bar. I have already asked Gascard to set something out for us to eat. We can all relax in my private dining room. And talk all of this over."

Louie gestured politely for everyone to precede him up the hill. Jake paused.

"Louie, I think I had better stay with the Goose. This is an isolated stretch of beach and after all she's been through …"

"Mon ami, pardon my saying so, but you look worse than your precious aeroplane. Come to the Monkey Bar, and I promise I will have Jacques post guards for the night. The Goose, she will rest in peace tonight." He grasped Jake's arm and gently moved him up the beach. Jake nodded wearily and started walking without further argument.

The Sleeper Awakes

Jake and the others hadn't starved while out on their rescue mission, but the roasted pork and broiled fish that Gascard put on the table seemed especially tasty. Every bite of the roasted tubers, and steamed greens seemed to reveal flavors never before tasted. Even Koji, who had the services of some of the finest chefs from Japan, including one she had hired away from the Emperor's palace, complimented the cooking. Between bites, Jake told the entire story of the search, and the attack. Sarah and Corky added occasional details, especially the work they had done while Jake rested. Koji remained quiet, keeping most of her attention on her food, or occasionally watching Willie. Willi seemed especially interested in details about the aircraft.

"You are certain that it was a Churman aeroplane? Perhaps it was an Australian plane."

Jake shook his head. "I remember seeing them in Spain. The Junkers shape was distinctive with that long straight wing. No, one of the few things that I feel certain about is that it was definitely the old, original single-engine configuration of the German Junkers JU-52."

Louie looked uncertain. "Jake, no one can question that you were attacked. But I have heard nothing about German aeroplanes in this area. It is unlikely for them to get here."

"That's not true, Louie. The Germans and Japanese are collaborating. Chennault told us about German fighters being delivered to Japan for evaluation. I admit the JU-52 is much larger, but the connection is there."

"If so, and they are attacking shipping in the islands, this is very serious. You must be absolutely certain, Jake."

"I don't understand your reluctance to believe Captain Cutter, Magistrate" Koji interrupted. "The holes in the Goose are proof enough." She looked coldly at Willi. "You will not convince me that the holes in the Goose are from volcanic embers. To me the conclusion is obvious. I think if there were a group of murderous pirates attacking people in my islands, especially my friends, I would waste no time dealing with it."

"Oui, Princess Koji. I will waste no time. However, I must be sure of my facts."

"You can be sure of them, Louie. The plane attacked from behind and above. Classic fighter tactics. However, as he passed overhead, I recognized the squared wings and the basic cross silhouette."

"But it was a transport plane, n'est pas?"

"Right. A large, single-engine transport. Windows down the side of the fuselage covered with metal flaps, two windows to the flap. Squared wingtips, and control surfaces offset from the wing. From what I could make out, there were two guns on the nose and a dorsal turret." He paused. "There were no markings on the fuselage. The nose was yellow, with some sort of design that I couldn't make out."

"And you were unable to evade the attack."

"Well, actually, I did evade it. But if that was a planned attack, it was well planned. Just coming back from a long day's search I was low on fuel and couldn't get far from that island. He came out of the sun without any warning. Even if my plane was faster, I couldn't run away."

"Mon ami, that would require the attacker to know your plans. How could that be?"

Jake shrugged. "Corky and I went over that. Someone would have had to tell them."

Willi looked shocked. "You t'ink der vas a spy? Someone told them where to find you and when you would be most wulnerable?"

Jake looked closely at the minister "We weren't on the radio, we weren't broadcasting our position."

Louie looked very thoughtful. "It would seem to be the most logical conclusion. That someone in the bar that morning overheard your plans and reported them to other interested parties. I am very troubled that there might be a spy operating in my jurisdiction, let alone operating in my very establishment."

Jake and Sarah squirmed uncomfortably.

"It seems, Magistrate, that we lack two critical pieces of information." She seemed unaware of the relief her statement gave the Americans. "If we knew who was flying the aeroplane, we would be able to deduce the identity of the spy. On the other hand, if we knew the identity of the spy, we could identify the attacker."

"Oui, and if we knew the motive for the attacks, that could lead to the answer of the other two questions."

Jake held his breath, afraid to look in Sarah's direction. He knew that Koji was aware of Sarah's activities, but he was never sure about Louie. Just what did Louie know, and would he reveal it tonight? Would Koji believe that Sarah was responsible for the attack? Knowing her blood thirsty nature, how would she respond?

"But, but, there weren't all that many people in the bar that morning." Corky held out a pudgy, grimy forefinger as a counter. "I was working on the Goose. Most people weren't even awake then."

"C'est vrai, mon ami. I don't think there were half a dozen people in the bar. Let me think … I had come downstairs to see that breakfast preparations were under way. Gascard was in the kitchen. Jacques was at the piano having just finished making rounds through the village. He was making his report when Princess Koji entered."

"That is correct, Magistrate. I had come to discuss my missing ships."

"Oui, you and your companion, Todo. And you left two … guards … outside the door."

Jacques spoke. "Then Captain Cutter arrived weeth Mademoiselle Sarah."

Corky looked at seven extended fingers.

Louie nodded. "And Jake had his flight chart for the region. We used it to mark the last reported location of Princess Koji's ships."

Willi, who had remained silent during this exchange began to edge toward the door. In just a moment Louie would remember the errand he gave Jacques. Just then Jack growled low in his throat. He was staring directly at Willi. Everyone paused to look at Jack and follow his gaze.

Willi's eyes widened below his sweating brow. He was poised to run, but that was really stupid. Where could he go. He swallowed in preparation to defend himself. He looked down at Jack. "Vat is der matter, Jack?"

Jake was just starting to move toward Jack and Willi when Farli burst into the room.

"He's awake! He's awake! The sleeper, he is awake."

The tension popped like a bubble as Willi, Louie, Jake, and Sarah dashed out of the bar. Princess Koji, pretending to be unaware of the meaning of the excitement poured herself a glass of white wine. Much as she hated to admit it, French vintages had a certain bouquet that she could not duplicate with her best efforts. And Louie's cellar was reflective of his usual impeccable taste and flair.

"Well, Todo. I believe things are getting interesting. I so love a good mystery."

Todo merely smiled and pulled his sword half way from its wooden scabbard. He gently tested the edge with his thumb. He nodded in satisfaction and looked up at the ceiling of the bar as if he could see what was happening in the rooms above.

Everyone climbed to the upper veranda. At the top of the steps, Louie held up his hand, halting the rush.

"I know we are all curious to know about our guest. However, I believe such a large group will unnecessarily confuse him. I will go in first, along with the Reverend and this lovely creature." Farli smiled at the attention. Louie continued, "one of the three of us may be able to speak words he understands. Why don't the rest of you retire back downstairs. Vite! Vite!" Jack slipped past unnoticed and trotted into the room ahead of Louie.

Recognizing the order phrased as a request, Jake shrugged and attempted to guide Sarah and Corky back down the steps. Sarah decided that it would be better to go to her room to 'freshen up.'

When Louie entered the room, the old man was sitting up, attended by his two sons. He was sipping water from a dipper made from a gourd.

"Bonjour, Monsieur. Parley vous Francais?"

Louie saw a flicker of understanding in the old eyes.

"Comment allez vous?

The old man nodded. He spoke quickly to his sons. Louis was able to catch a few words here and there. The old man turned back to Louis.

"I speak, a little."

"Bien. How do you feel?"

"How many days?"

Louis thought for a moment. "Une, Deux, Trois, … Many days."

"Aiieeee!" Wailed the old man. "So many in danger. They need help."

"Who is in danger, father?" Louie used the paternal address as a sign of respect. "Where is the danger?"

Louie continued the discussion while downstairs Jake and company shifted operations from the dining room into the saloon area. Even Princess Koji sat with them around a large circular table with Todo standing silently behind her. This has an interesting benefit as anyone moving to sit at either of the two tables flanking her seat reconsider after getting a glare from Todo.

Gushie wheeled up and took drink orders. Jake and Corky order their usual beers and Jake ordered Sarah a glass of white wine. The Princess ordered absinthe.

There was no conversation at the table. It's not a comfortable silence, it is one of waiting. After twenty minutes, Sarah came downstairs. Before she could take more than a sip of her wine, Gushie rolled up and asked if she would be able to sing a few sets. She looked at Corky. Corky shrugged and nodded. Gushie smiled his appreciation and rolled over to the piano to tell Jacques. Corky followed over, flexing his fingers.

Sarah was half way through a recent Billie Holiday song, "I Wished on the Moon" when Louie and Reverend Tennboom joined them at the table. "The old man has gone back to sleep. A short conversation exhausted him. Farli stayed to watch him."

Willi seemed concerned. There were many questions he wanted to ask, but dared not. Instead, he asked the question he knew a concerned pastor should ask about an adopted member of his flock. Maybe it would start something. "Will he be all right, Magistrate?"

"Oui, Reverend. Your care and ministrations were most beneficial. He is strong and should now recover nicely. It will be good to get him to where he can eat solid food. I'll have Gascard prepare some soups for him to start with."

"I sensed great need in him. What does he say?"

Gushie rolled up with a snifter of cognac. "Mercie." Louie rolls the dark liqueur in the glass, allowing his hand to warm the contents. He sniffs gently and takes a sip. "Nectar."

His friends wait patiently. He remembers their presence with a start. "Oh, pardon. He has some French. He spoke of a demon bird that lives on the island. It is very angry and has attacked his village."

Willi shook his head. "This is a strange superstition. Why is he looking for us? He should call a vitch docktor."

"It appears he already has. He said the bird brought its own witch doctor. A tall pale skinned one, with hair like the sun, and eyes the color of the sky."

Jake looked at Willi. "He could be describing you, Reverend."

Willi turned ashen. "That is absurd. What would a demon bird be doing with a priest? I know nodthing of this."

"Relax, Reverend, I was only kidding. We know you have been here the whole time."

"Still, I'm afraid that I now have more questions than before." Louie looked pensive. "I hope in the morning, that he will be rested enough to make sense."

A rumble of thunder in the distance seemed to mock the hope. Flashes of lightning overrode the interior lighting to cast its own shadows from the windows. Sarah concluded her set and walked over to sit down. Corky stayed on the piano, waiting for Jacques to return from whatever errand and relieve him. The storm grew in intensity outside.

Finally, Willi looked about. "Der storm grows vorse. I should go back to the chapel in case any of my flock needs me."

Jake nodded his agreement. "I've had a long day. Turning in seems like a good idea." As he rose to leave, all said their good nights and left the table.

Jake made it to his room before the storm struck. The wind seemed to twist the entire structure. Thunder rocked the very foundations of the building. Jake listened as hotel guests and residents scurried about, closing windows and slipping shutters into place.

Instead of trying to close the storm out, Jake took pleasure in the violent forces at play. When on the ground, he could enjoy them. He remembered watching storms with his mother as a child. His aunt's farm was another good place to watch storms. It was a glorious darkness. It appealed to the dark side of his nature. It was a fair night, he thought, a fair night for foul deeds.

Jake made no effort to close his room. He merely waited inside as the others rushed about. When all the human clattering and banging was done, he stripped to his khaki cut-offs, a light tee-shirt, his hat, and his moccasins. He stepped out on the veranda with a lit cigar and a Scotchman's two fingers of cask strength single malt whiskey. He'd picked up the bottle in England and a pair of Irish cut crystal tumblers during a brief visit on his way to Spain. He'd tried to find his fiancée. Her father had sent her there to keep them apart, and he made one last attempt to see her. He had failed in his errand, but he had come away with the Scotch with the ancient label. He hoarded it, drinking from it only rarely. He set the tumbler on the veranda railing, taking care to not let it live up to its name. He watched as a handful of pure, cold raindrops splashed into the 160-proof beverage.

He watched the water swirl in the dark liquid. Only then did he take a sip as the rainwater released the resins bound to the alcohol. He savored the smoky, peaty taste of the Scotch. Normally, he was perfectly happy with beer, but once in a rare while the Scotch was a treat. The last time had been to celebrate the first time the Goose took to the air. Before that, when he'd made Ace. It didn't take much, and he had no idea when he would be able to replace it.

It didn't take long for the splash to coat his skin with silvery droplets. The gust front wind of the storm chilled his skin, contrasting the fiery warmth of the Scotch. Fire and ice, he thought. Man is trapped between fire and ice. It was what made life interesting. The blue-white flare of nearby lightning created stark, sharply edged shadows. It was comforting to see his shadows outnumbered by the storm. Flash-clap! That one was right on top of him. Two dark shadows seemed to flit across the compound independent of the storm. He watched without curiosity. Instead, he took another sip of the Scotch. In spite of the day's violence, and all the intrigue, he was at peace. He knew he wouldn't fly tomorrow. He and Corky would be working all day on the Goose. More likely, all week. He didn't think it would be too hard to make another float. He could use the remaining float as a form to hammer out the pieces from the plentiful supply of scrap metal on the island. That wouldn't be hard at all. Corky wouldn't have any problem patching the holes – he'd had plenty of practice. The hardest part would be replacing the radio. He'd use Louie's radio in the morning to order a new one. Who knew when it could come in. Perhaps he could ask Josh for one. Sarah could radio the request in her next report – if she would. Better to have two strings in his bow.

Jake noticed a faint light from Sarah's room. She was probably reporting in right now. He toyed with the idea of knocking on her door and seeing what she was up to. He took another sip of the Scotch. No, not tonight. Tonight was a night best savored alone.

Another flash lit the island. There was a flicker in the dark. Two shadows seemed to move across the grounds independent of the storm. Jake watched them for a moment, satisfied to just watch. He took another sip of the Scotch. They weren't his shadows.

Terror in the Dark

It seemed like Willi had only just sunken into troubled sleep for a few seconds when he woke with the cold tip of a sword at his throat. A flash of lightning glinted off the polished steel. The very edge was black where light bent around it. The grinning apparition at its other end made him think he was having a nightmare. Then the cold voice spoke beside his head and he knew it was a nightmare, a waking one.

"Did you think I would be so easy to kill, Willi?"

"Vat? Vat do you mean, Fraulein Koji?"

"You know what I mean. I kept silent at the table this evening. But I knew. The only one who could have called that plane was you."

"Nein! I svear dat idt vas not me. I knew nodting about an attack. I vould have refused to let them do that."

Koji moved into his vision. She looked deeply into his eyes. She seemed to be toying with a short length of rope in her hands. She coiled it into one hand. Willi started to relax, until he saw the coils move of their own accord.

"Vat are you going to do?"

Koji smiled, but her eyes stayed flat and dark – snake eyes.

"Dat isssss a wery good question." Koji mocked Willi's voice with an overlay of the hiss of a viper. "Vhat do you think, Todo?"

"I think the two-faced priest should explain his treachery to magatsuhi-no-kami."

"Vo bist dat?" Willi's fear overrode his English.

"It depends on what you believe, Willi," Koji continued to play with the snake, making sure its fangs were never able to reach her but did come alarmingly close to his jugular. "Some consider him to be the source of evil, others think of him as a judge able to bless or curse you." She dangled the snake so that it came close to Willi's face. His panicked eyes darted between the snake and the blade. Koji smiled again. "Do you think he would bless or curse you, Willi?"

Willi carefully released the breath he had been holding. "I did not betray you, Princess Koji. I vould never do that."

"How can I believe you. You must have told them something."

Willi took a long shallow breath, mindful of any sudden movement that might force that shining blade deeper into his throat. A wetness down the side of his neck made it clear it was close enough.

"Ja, Princess. Dose fools mit der aeroplane, der leader, Rolf, is a killer. He is Gestapo." Willi spat out the word Gestapo like a curse. "He vants everyone dead who could reveal anyting about der mission. Der old man, der boys, und Jake Cutter because he might lead der French Magistrate to dem."

Koji nodded. "He is mad, but he pays well."

"Ja, he has geld. Collected from pockets of the dead, no doubt. I keep telling him that bodies leave trails. He refuses to believe me. He tinks dead men tell no tales. He does not know of the abilities of der magistrate."

"Hmmm. Yes, he is extraordinarily capable. I respect him. I don't usually operate in his waters."

"Ya, dat is most wise. But Rolf, he does not see this. He came here to kill der old man." Willi allowed the indignation to creep into his voice. "I refused to let him. Dat was when I asked you for the drug – to keep the old man alive but asleep."

Koji motioned for Todo to ease back on the blade. It had tasted blood. Todo let his disappointment show but moved back into the shadows. He stood silently, polishing the blade with a silk cloth. Koji still continued to play with the viper.

"I remember. It should have kept him unconscious for weeks. I don't understand why he is awake now."

For the first time, defiance replaced the defensiveness in Willi's eyes. "He is awake because I decided to not give him any more medication."

A rare expression crossed Koji's face – puzzlement. "Why would you do that?"

Willi sat up on his narrow bunk, carefully moving away from Koji and her pet. "I am tired of dealing with fools! Churmany does not need such to achieve his proper place in der vorld. I diverted attention from them. I gave them space for their intrigues. Und der dumpkoffen reveal themselves by bungling the attack on the very people dey needed to avoid."

"So you knew they were going to attack Jake on his search."

"Only after you left. I reported to my superiors that I had sent Cutter on what the Americans call a wild goose chase and that you had gone along to make the story more believable."

"And this Rolf made the decision to attack?"

"Der fool bragged about it."

"He knew I was there?"

"Ja, Princess. He knew."

The Princess idly played with the coils of the very angry viper. She avoided its attacks with seemingly little effort.

"I will see about this. If I find you are lying, you will not rise from this bed except as the first customer for the new pastor of your flock."

With that, Koji disappeared into the shadows with Todo silently following. The next morning, Koji and Todo were both gone. The junk had cleared the harbor during the storm.

Decisions

Louie came out of the old man's room, crossed the veranda and walked down the steps. Jake and Sarah were downstairs relaxing. Jake and Corky had worked all morning on the Goose. They took a break for lunch and Sarah had joined them. Corky had a beer and was taking sips between verses played on his kazoo. Louis sat down, looking at Corky with a long sigh. When the Saints Come Marching In on a Kazoo, had an eerie quality.

Jake spoke quickly to distract Louie. "Any change in the old man's condition?"

"It is very strange. He seems alert enough, but he is still very weak. His sons are convinced that the devil bird has extended its reach to place a curse on him."

"They still believe that it was some sort of evil spirit?"

"Who knows? Jacques still believes that the holes that they had plugged in the canoe were bullet holes."

"Birds don't carry guns, Louie."

"D'accord. Reverend Tennboom still thinks they are holes caused by embers from a locally active volcano. He suggests a large bird was overhead and the panicked villagers thought that they were coming from the bird."

"If it weren't for the last few days, I'd certainly think that is more likely." Sarah seemed to shiver at the remembrance.

Louis shrugged his elegant shoulders. "Oui, c'est possible. I find I must go and see for myself."

Jake nodded. "Makes sense. Give Corky and I a couple more days on the Goose and we can go. Can you wait until we get the new radio?"

"Not we, mon ami. I must go alone. As we discussed, we don't know where these people are. If they could guide me from the deck of my patrol boat, I would take it. Since they must return in their canoe, and there is only room for one more, I must go alone."

"Are you sure there is room for one more in that canoe?"

"The youngest son going to show me the way. We are leaving their father and the oldest son. It seems he has developed some attachments here."

Jake grinned. "it seems he has captured the heart of one of Reverend Tennboom's prettiest parishioners. Reverend Tennboom is upset that so devout a parishioner is straying from the fold."

Louie mirrored his smile. "Oui, I've noticed that the good Reverend seems more distracted than usual."

"Just the two of you will be a long trip." Sarah was still concerned. "Are you certain you want to do that?"

Louie was certain. "It is best this way. Going in by canoe, I will attract less attention. With just the two of us, we will have more room for supplies. I will take the spare radio from the patrol boat and can call you to come get me when I have assessed the situation."

"Why not send Jacques, or let me go?" Jake offered. Sarah sat straight at the idea that he might go in Louie's place.

"Would that I could, mes amis, but I am in charge, and the responsibility for these people is mine. I must go to determine what is to be done. When I know, I will radio you. I assure you I can handle this."

"What if something goes wrong?"

"If it does, you can use the old man to find your way when he is stronger."

"It'd be better if you would use the radio as a beacon, we could home in on it with the Goose."

"The idea has possibilities."

Corky thought for a moment. "You'd better take a long piece of wire to make an antenna, Louie. That radio won't reach far without it. And you'll need a spare battery. We won't be needing the one out of the Goose."

"Thank you, my friend. I will do that."

Jake nodded. "We can use the RDF antenna in the Goose to home in on the signal that way."

"D'accord. It is a good plan. I'd best go get ready." Louie rose from the table.

Sarah tapped Jake's foot under the table and nodded toward Corky. It took Jake a second to understand.

Finally, "Say-y-y-y-y-y, Corky? Why … don't … you" Inspiration strikes. "go get that battery and wire for Louie. Help him get ready. And make sure he has what he needs to hook every thing up." Corky started to rise. "Oh, and he'll need some sort of gadget to send the pulse for us to pick up. Something simple."

"Right, Jake. I'll get right on it." Corky hurried off and Jake looked expectantly at Sarah.

"Jake, I don't like Louie going off like this."

"Sarah, there's nothing we can do. It's his job and he has to do it as he sees fit."

"I still don't like it." She crossed her arms and leaned on the table in thought. "Gee! There must be something I can do."

Jake waited. "I'm going to make sure Jack knows to watch him when he leaves. "

"What good will that do?"

"Come on, Sarah. You've seen Jack follow a trail. I don't know how he does it, but it works. I think he likes Louie enough to be able to track him."

"It's something, at least. I think I'll radio Josh. Maybe he can figure a way to help."

"Well he certainly ought to know what's going on." Jake leaned back in his chair with a dubious look. "But it would look awful strange – a destroyer tailing a canoe. That's not Louie's style of subtle."

Sarah laughed at the image. "That would be silly, but maybe he can think of something."

Sarah went to her room and Jake walked down to where the Goose sat beached. He couldn't seem to concentrate on anything. He didn't hear the soft footfalls on the sand behind him. The familiar, resonant voice startled him.

"Jake, mine freund, you are troubled?" He completed his jump by turning to see Reverend Tenboom behind him.

"Yeah, Reverend. I am. I keep wondering what I'm doing here. The world is on the brink of war and I'm setting on an island in relative luxury, safe." Jake bent and picked up an innocent seashell and threw it back into the surf. "My friend is heading off toward an unknown island in a canoe full of barely patched holes, and I'm on the beach here with a busted airplane."

"God has a purpose for you, my son."

"Well, he isn't telling me."

Willi awkwardly touched Jake on the shoulder. "Jake, ve are from different vorlds. We've come together here. Some day ve will all move on. Ve might not live through tomorrow. Ve both know dis. Ve must say vat is on our hearts. I tink you are a man too much alone."

"I've got people all around me. Many are my friends."

"Ja, dis is true. But as long as you do not accept yourself, you cannot not let others into your life. You keep your friends at a distance. You are not a coward, yet you run. You must stop long enough to seek and hear God's vord."

"I'm not much for reading the Bible, Reverend."

"Nein. But dere ist somezing you can do – even when flying your aeroplane. Vill you try it if I tell you?"

"What is it?"

Willi took a deep breath and sat on a nearby fallen log at the edge of the jungle. "Ven I vas a young boy, I had a wery good freund, Axel. Axel und me, ve got into much trouble. Often were we sent to see the village priest." Willi paused.

Jake looked at him questioningly.

"Der priest vould sit Axel und me down and make us examine ourselves. He used an instrument called the Examen of Consciousness. Axel und me did it so many times. I still remember to dis wery day. Listen:" Willi held up his thumb. "Eins. Recall that you are in the presence of God." He looked at Jake questioningly. "Do you believe in God, Jake Cutter?" Willi waved his hand over his head. "Have you felt his presence in your surroundings, in the air?"

Jake sat down beside Willi on the log. He traced a few idle lines in the sand. "Yeah. You get caught in a storm up there, you feel awful small. There's a beauty up there. Yeah, there is definitely someone out there."

Willi beamed. "Ja, gutt!" He held up his index finger with his thumb. "Den zwei, you should spend a moment looking over your day with gratitude for this day's gifts."

"I'm having a hard time seeing any gifts today, Reverend." He looked at the Goose sitting on the beach, different hatches and inspection ports open, the hull damage looking like an evil case of the measles. Removed panels gave the impression that someone was trying to erase the Goose from this plane of consciousness. Each opening in the plane was a wound in his spirit. The plane couldn't fly, and neither could his spirit.

Willi followed his gaze and considered the Goose in amazement. That such a wreck could have survived the attack of an armed warplane in the hands of an experienced combat pilot. The anger surged within him. Not only had the attack been stupid, generating the opposite response from what was desired, but it endangered his people. His people? Willi paused at that surprising thought. Germany was his people. These were merely actors on the stage of Germany's rise to Glory. They weren't really supposed to be considered people. Still, they were of his flock. His flock? Verdammt! He'd been wearing this priest's collar too long. Still … "Being alive is such a great gift; and it lets you experience other gifts, like the friendships you share."

Jake appeared to consider the point. He finally nodded. "Being alive is a great gift, Reverend. Problem is that there are too many who aren't here to enjoy it anymore."

Willi's face grew sad. "Ja, Jake, many are not given the gift of long life. But dey live through the lives dey touch. Dey are der vindows into der next question."

"Vat – er- what is that?"

Willi patted Jake on the shoulder. "Gutt. Now you ask God to send you His Holy Spirit to help you look at your actions, attitudes and motives. This takes great honesty and patience." Willi stopped and looked uncomfortable. "Axel und me, we feared this step. Ve never vanted to look at our actions and motives too closely. But, I tink this is easy for you, Jake Cutter. You are an honest man. I tink, what you lack is patience. Patience mit yourself."

Jake stared at the water. "I can see the actions easy enough. The attitudes I can understand. I always wonder about my motives."

"Ja. Ve are much alike in that, Jake Cutter." Willi stared at the water as well. He saw an ocean of good intentions, duty, and responsibility. "Der longest step is reviewing your day. Tink about the events, explore your actions in context. Vat was your heart telling you? What were you involved in and who were you with? Vat were your hopes and hesitations?"

Jake stared at his hands and looked at the Goose. "That will take a long time, Reverend"

"Ja. But you can do it while you are verking on the Goose, and later, ven you are flying. You have much time and can use it wisely."

"What if I get more questions than answers?"

"You probably will, Jake." Willi shrugged. "Many situations will show that your heart vas divided—wavering between helping and disregarding, scoffing and encouraging, listening and ignoring, rebuking and forgiving, speaking and silence, neglecting and thanking. Remember, this is not a time to dwell on your shortcomings; rather, it is a gentle look mit der Lord at how you have responded to God's gifts. Der is much to learn. How did you choose an action from the choices you had? Where did you feel you didn't have a choice? What reactions helped or hindered you."

Jake shook his head. "That is a huge picture."

Willi nodded. "You see, nodting is ever really simple. You find yourself asking if you really had a choice. Or, you ask where was the choice that put me on this path? You make your awareness much larger, Jake Cutter."

"And in the end, you find out everything that goes wrong was your fault all along."

"Nein, Jake Cutter. Dat is self pity, nodt understanding. You must also look forvard. Who benefits from what you did? How did choices for the greatest good place you vere you are? How many times haff you found yourself in difficult situations because you cared for someone."

Jake nodded. "Yeah, I've seen that a few times. So, is that all?"

"Nein. Den comes the part Axel und me feared second vorst. You haff a heart to heart talk mit Jesus. Axel un me, ve knew he could see our hearts und ve often did not vant him to. Ve vere wery nervous at those times."

Jake straightened a little and looked Willi directly in the eyes. Willi could see an unaccustomed look of respect in those eyes, and perhaps, a new sense of peace. "Never thought, I'd say this, Reverend, but thank you. You've really helped me."

"Und thank you, Jake Cutter. I now see vat I must do. I must go see der Magistrate." Willi stood and brushed the sand from his clothes. "Der is much I must do."

Unlikely Companions

"You want to do what?" Shock was not an expression you usually saw on Bon Chance Louie's face. This however, was more than even his composure could stand.

"Herr Magistrate, I must go with you to this island." Willi's expression was earnest, pleading.

"Reverend, I don't even know where we are going. I have no idea what we will find."

"Please, Herr Magistrate. God has placed it on my heart that I should go mit you. Dis is a right thing."

"Quite frankly, I have a hard time imagining you leaving your flock for that long. What will they do without your blessings?" Louie's immediately expression showed clearly that he regretted the unkindness of that comment.

Willi allowed the hurt to register. "I know you do not respect me as pastor, but these people are in danger from der false priest der old man told you about.. God vill forgive my shortcomings. But he will not forgive my letting you go on dis journey alone."

Louie resumed packing the small bag in his office. Very few clothes, mostly medicines and ammunition. "I don't see, Reverend, how God can be very concerned about one man in a canoe in the Pacific ocean, who is probably going on a fool's errand."

Willi looked puzzled. "Vhy are you going?"

Louie sighed a long sigh. Willi guessed he'd been asking himself the same question. "Because I must. It is my duty to citizens of the French Mandate who may be in trouble. I have promised to protect them."

Willi nodded. "Dis I understand. Duty is important. Und, dat is vhy I must go. I must follow my duty to these people. I must follow God's duty to aid these people's spirit. Dey may be citizens of France, but they are God's children first."

Louie sighed again – this time in resignation. "Oui. Do you know how to paddle a canoe, Reverend?"

"I vill learn, Herr Magistrate. I am strong."

"You will need to be. Now go prepare. We leave this evening. I want to get away from Boragora when the light is low."

"Ja. Danke, Herr Magistrate." Willi quickly headed for the church. Lelani will be waiting, and he will just have time…

Later, alone in his quarters off the Chapel, clad only in white boxer shorts, Willi reached under his bunk to pull out a battered suitcase. From it he removed a package wrapped in oilcloth. He unwrapped it to reveal a bible with a battered black leather cover. A leather strap with a brass catch keeps it closed. Willi released the catch and the bible fell open to reveal two cutouts. One held a compact Walther PPK semi-auto pistol. The second cutout held a long black cylinder of machined metal. Willi dropped the clip from the black grip, checked for a shell in the chamber, and reinserted the clip. Placing the pistol back in its space he closed and rewrapped the bible. He threw it into a small kit bag similar to Louie's. Blessings, he thought grimly, come in many forms.

Departure

There was a gathering on the beach in the evening light. Jacques was going over the canoe one last time making certain there were no leaks. Gascard had come down from the bar to make certain there were sufficient stocks of food, water and wine for the journey. Corky was carefully loading the radio, battery, and other materials to keep the expedition on the air. Jake, Sarah, and Jack were standing slightly apart, looking helpless and concerned.

Makki hovered about, making certain he was comfortable with all the materials going into one small canoe.

Willi and Louie approached from separate directions, each carrying their single small valise. Louie and Willi joined Makki at the repaired canoe. Both were dressed as natives and Louie was surprised to see that Willi is as deeply tanned as any native. He'd never seen Willi in anything other than his cleric's suit.

He surveyed the exceptionally trim and fit body. "Mon ami, you are certainly the most muscular minister I have evair seen."

Willi looked self conscious. "Dat is a shame, Herr Magistrate. God requires us to maintain our bodies as a proper earthly temple for his perfect spirit. Those who do not, are ignoring his word."

"Hmmmm. Oui. You are, of course, correct. If one were to judge by your physical condition, they would have to believe you are a very devout man."

Willi dropped his bag into the stern of the canoe. His expression was bland. "Had you any doubt, Herr Magistrate?"

Louie's face became a study in impassive. "Non, monsieur. Of course not."

Willi nodded. "Gutt. Shall we go?" With that the three men stooped to shove the canoe into the water.

That was the signal for all the friends to approach to wish the three men well. Sarah gave Louie an impulsive hug. "Golly, I wish you weren't going off to the middle of nowhere all alone. You have no idea what you will find."

"Oui, ma Cherie. But, go I must, and I'm hardly alone with so impressive a companion as the Reverend."

Willi beamed at the compliment and he dearly would have loved a hug from that firm young body, but Sarah obviously knew better than to come so close. He had tried to get his hands on her before, without success. Jake laid a hand on his shoulder and turned him to grip his hand. "Good luck, Reverend. You be careful."

"What have I to fear, Jake Cutter? I haff God on my side."

Jake nodded, "Yeah, well I'm sure he won't mind if you take some precautions."

Willi smiled and held up the Bible from his valise. "I haff taken precautions, my friend. I haff all that I need."

Jake smiled dubiously and moved on to grip Louie's hand. "You be careful, too."

Louie smiled. "Mon ami, I am always careful. I do not rely on chance, you know."

Makki had already settled into the rear of the canoe and was waiting to start. Louie released Jake's hand and climbed into the middle, while Willi took the front of the canoe.

All three men took up their paddles and as one dipped them into the water, thrusting the canoe forward, away from the group on the beach. Willi quickly dropped into a steady rhythm with deep, sure strokes. Louie and Makki quickly matched his stroke to keep from breaking rhythm.

Willi frequently looked over his shoulder to see how the others were doing. Both were keeping up, and Makki was watching the water and the sky intently. Periodically he would use his paddle to steer the canoe. Willi paid no attention, he just kept stroking. He focused on keeping up the seemingly impossible metronomic rhythm. He was content to let the young native control their course. Willi could sense Louie behind him trying to see what Makki was seeing. There wasn't enough common language to ask. Most of their communication was by hand signals and pantomime. Each stopped occasionally to take a drink, eat a little, or stretch to avoid cramping.

The sun set to reveal a clear night sky sparkling with diamond bright stars. Makki searched for familiar stars and with a grunt, he adjust the canoe's course again. Willi observed over his shoulder how Louie tried to spot the stars Makki was using. The North Star was not visible this far south and the best he could get from Makki was that their home was under the wagging tail of the dragon. Finally Louie appeared to resign himself to the boy guiding their course based on specific directions from the old man.

On the second day, Willi's concentration was broken by Louie. He wanted to know if Willi was concerned about the lack of control over their course. Willi paused his paddling in thought.

"Nein, Herr Magistrate. All my life someone else has chosen my path. Now God chooses vere I must go. I follow where he sends me. Now Makki is his instrument of guidance. You must have faith, Herr Magistrate."

"I think, Reverend, that I prefer to have faith in preparation, and in a compass."

Willi smiled tolerantly. "Ve never know vat is in store. Idt is better to trust God." Willi felt a little guilty. He knew that he had made preparations. He had a compass in his valise and had been watching it. Beside, Princess Koji had given him good navigation instructions. Naturally he couldn't tell Louie that. He was amazed at how closely the young native was following course plotted by Koji's navigator. The only thing of which he could not be certain was their speed. He attempted to calculate based on length of canoe stroke. He took pleasure in driving the canoe forward forcefully enough to cause a small froth at the bow of the canoe.

The ocean was pleasantly smooth and if the weather held Willi hoped they could cut the trip to five days. He wished he could use the sextant Louie had borrowed from his launch. Louie clearly knew how to use it, and recorded his findings in a small notebook.

"How are we doing Herr Magistrate?"

"I would not have believed it possible, Reverend." Louie carefully put the notebook back into its oilcloth wrapper. "With the favorable weather and your amazing ability wit the paddle, we have covered an unbelievable distance." Louie shrugged. "I do not know where we are going, but we are certainly getting there fast."

"Ja, dos is gutt."

"Excuse me, Reverend, but I would like to ask a delicate question."

"Go ahead, Herr Magistrate."

"I have not see you take any time for your devotions. Should we not aid you to have time …"

"Ach, Herr Magistrate. I haff been in constant communion with God. This blue water and his blue sky are a perfect temple to his glory."

"Oui, I suppose that is true."

"I tell you, Herr Magistrate, dis is a pilgrimage und I haff been blessed with many hours of uninterrupted prayer." In truth, Willi thought to himself, he had had many hours to try to figure out how to stop these fools without giving himself away. His lack of success had driven him close to prayer.

Louie shook his head. "That is a lot of prayer."

"Ja, I am catching up." Willi softened his voice. "You have no idea how hard it is to keep up your devotions when you are constantly interrupted for blessings."

"I had not thought, Reverend, that blessings were a burden. I thought you were eager to give blessings."

Willi thought back to when a couple of his younger congregation had brought their fat mothers for blessing. The daunting image of all that flesh and the simpering giggles. He dug harder into the water for a moment. "Blessings can be mixed, Herr Magistrate. Blessings can be mixed."

Frantic Activity

"Jake, the radio's in." Corky's voice echoed down the cabin interior to the rear hold. Jake paused from splicing the bullet nicked rudder control cable.

"Great. Let me finish this and we can break for lunch."

Jack, reclining on his blanket on top of the bulkhead mounted tool box, cheerily echoed his sentiments with two barks. He hopped down and trotted forward to the rear hatch.

Jake deftly overlapped the damaged rudder cable ends and wove them into one tight cable. The result was only slightly thicker than the original. He reached back to the adjusting turnbuckle on the rudder pinion and turned it several times until the cable assumed its proper tension against the return springs. Wiping his hands on a piece of torn shirt he was using as a rag, he carefully crawled out of the tight space in the tail and worked his way to the hatch. He blinked his eyes several times as they adjusted to the bright late morning sun.

Corky stood on the beach waiting for him. "Itsa good thing you spotted that damaged cable, Jake. If that had let go while we were flying, it would have been really bad."

"Yeah. But, it just means we will have to go over every cable in the old girl."

"Do you think we can float her today and get her back over to the dock? It would sure be easier to work on her."

Jake shrugged optimistically. "I don't know. If the dope on the patches is dry enough for the sealer coat, we just might get her over there this evening."

The two friends walked up to the hotel, going over the checklist of things yet to be done on the Goose. Sarah met them at the door and pointed to a table already set on the patio for lunch for two dirty, hungry men and one spoiled dog. She looked impatient to say something, and Jake suspected she wouldn't as long as Corky was there.

"Corky, why don't you go on into the bar and get us both a beer."

"Woof, Woof"

Jake grinned, "Sorry, Jack. Corky, make it three beers."

Corky managed to look hopeful and crestfallen at the same time. "Uh, Jake, wouldn't that be breaking the rule? You know I won't drink when working."

Jake looked thoughtful. "Just one, Corky. I don't think it would hurt. Besides, you've earned it the last few days."

Corky beamed and hurried into the bar. Jake looked at Sarah expectantly, one eyebrow raised.

"I heard from the Hancock. They lost sight of the canoe. They think it changed course during the night. Josh is pretty upset."

Jake moved over to hold a chair for Sarah at the table. She smiled her thanks as he said. "It was a long shot anyway. We'll just have to wait."

Sarah nodded. "Will the Goose be ready soon?"

Jake smiled as he dropped into the vacant seat on Sarah's left. "Corky has worked like a dog …

One sharp bark from under the table.

"Sorry, Jack." Jake looked at Sarah who grinned back at him. "Anyhow," he continued "Corky has slaved over the Goose. He's determined it will be ready when Louie radios for us to go get him."

"The Hancock will be standing by for the call, too. They won't get there as fast as the Goose, but at least they can give us some support."

Jake thought a moment. "Say, I've got an idea. With the directional loop on the radio, we can get a bearing on Louie from here. If the Hancock were, say 15 or 20 miles to the east of us, they would get a different bearing. Lay the two bearings on the chart and we could get a distance fix."

Sarah's eyes lit up. Jake knew she had been frustrated that she couldn't provide any more help and this would give her something useful to do. "Golly, Jake, that would be neat. I'll radio them with the suggestion right after lunch."

They quickly changed the conversation to the extent of the repairs still needed as the clinking of glass told them Corky was coming back.

Corky set two dark brown bottles on the table, the caps already removed. He knelt down to place a pan full of the dark amber liquid on the floor in front of Jack. Jack woofed twice in thanks.

Corky slid into the remaining chair at the table and sighed. "Wow. It feels good to just sit down in a cool place for a minute. And I'm starved."

Jake surveyed the table "Well dig in. Looks like there's plenty here."

Jake saw that Sarah was trying not to be upset as the two men gulped down their lunches. He knew she hadn't received a lot of attention the last few days with Louie and the Reverend gone, and he and Corky buried in the tasks to rebuild the Goose. He couldn't help it, they were eager to get back to the Goose and finish it up. Corky wasn't the only one who felt a need to be ready. Much more and she'd probably settle for the Reverend's single-minded attention.

Jake and Sarah barely heard Corky's muttered "Excuse me" as he stood and hurried back to the beach.

Jake reached over and picked up the half full brown bottle. "I think this is a first. Corky didn't finish his beer."

Sarah took it from him with a smile and poured the remainder into Jack's empty pan. "We'll destroy the evidence. Not that I ever thought I'd see the day."

Jake took her hand as she put down the bottle. "Sarah, it's been pretty hard for you the last few days. I want you to know, I'm sorry…"

"Jake" she placed a tender finger on his lips. "they're my friends, too. And, your precious Goose is broken. I do understand."

Jake smiled his appreciation. "Why don't you go up to your room and change into some old clothes. If you have some time, the patches we doped should be ready to paint in about half an hour."

"You mean I can help?"

Jake shrugged. "Sure."

Sarah leapt from her chair with a small squeal of delight and wrapped her arms tightly around Jake's neck, knocking his hat to the floor and pressing his face into soft flesh he spent a lot of time trying to ignore. "I'll be down as soon as I … powder my nose." She grinned, straightened and left a dazed Jake looking for his cap as she rushed out of the office and clattered down the stairs to the bar.

Landfall

Incomprehensible words broke Willi out of his reverie. He looked over his shoulder to see Makki pointing to a distant smudge on the horizon. He didn't need to know the language to know that Makki was pointing toward his home island. Willi nodded in satisfaction. All that distance in a small canoe. He found himself absurdly proud of the accomplishment. Sure, others did it in big ships and in airplanes all the time – further distances, at that. But to navigate across ocean waters in a small canoe using only muscle power and primitive navigation aides was a feat to be looked back on in pride.

Willi stopped paddling and carefully shifted his weight as he looked back to Louie. There was more room to move in the canoe now as their supplies were mostly gone. "Herr Magistrate, do you think we should wait and approach at dark?"

Louie looked thoughtful. "Perhaps. Although I confess I am more than ready to get out of this canoe and walk on land again. Perhaps we could find some fishermen and go in with them."

Makki solved the question by digging in with his paddle and starting the canoe toward his home. Clearly he planned to land as soon as possible. Louie looked at Willi and shrugged. Both dug in, but Willi didn't drive anywhere near as hard as he had been. He'd long ago decided that there wasn't much more planning he could do until he had a chance to scout the island. Still, he was reluctant to take what were to him, irrevocable steps. He hadn't come to keep the Magistrate from interfering with the operation of the base. Left to his own devices, in all likelihood, Bon Chance Louie would have become Mal Chance Louie just before becoming, as the Americans said, Dead Duck Louie.

No, Willi realized this was a moment of truth for him. Yes, he loved the Fatherlund, but these Nazis were vermin. If it was Germany's manifest destiny to rule the world, it would do so without them. Herr Hitler was a man of great vision, but he did not need such as these when he was supported by millions of loyal Germans. Besides, the war was in Europe. That is where it would be decided. There, and maybe America. With FDR on the throne in America, they were half Socialist already. Many great Americans supported Hitler. Had even traveled to Germany to see him. They would keep American out of the war until it was too late.

England was fighting a losing battle, and when Ireland formally allied with Germany, England would have little choice but to capitulate as had France. The Africa campaign would soon see all of Africa and the Middle East in German hands. The indignities of lands lost in the last war would be erased.

No, Germany and his ally Japan would soon rule most of the world. America would join them when it saw the inevitability and the rightness of Germany's course. Many forgot that America was only one vote from speaking German at its Continental Congress. America would understand and recognize the new world order. Willi would be glad to have the likes of Jake Cutter on his side. That was how Willi justified his secret feelings of friendship and loyalty to Jake, yes and even Sarah. They should be allies, and would be, in time. He was building links for the future of Germany's greatness.

Willi nodded to himself. He was a loyal German. His mission was to support the German aims to reclaim territory lost in the Pacific as a result of the first great war. His personal mission, was to maintain the purity of the German endeavor. These Nazis were vermin that were fouling the purity of the German Way. Foiling them was no disloyalty. His conscience was clear. With that, he dug his paddle in a little deeper and the canoe obediently picked up speed.

In spite of their concerns, no one seemed to pay any attention to them as they paddled to the beach and grounded between two larger canoes. Willi and Louie both staggered as they tried to force cramped muscles to function on dry land. It was hard to walk when the land wasn't moving and the inner ear still thought it should be. Both men walked a few moments on the beach, trying to relearn how to walk upright. Willi couldn't help but feel resentful at the ease with which apparently Makki's younger body adjusted.

As he staggered drunkenly on the beach, Willi looked about in surprise. Based on the old man's descriptions as related by Louie, he had expected to find a number of burned out and discarded hulks. All the canoes he could see were in good repair. The beech was free of litter and trash. There didn't appear to be any collapsed or ruined huts. Where was the destruction? Mystified, he helped Louie unload the gear and stash it at the base of a clump of trees. Makki waited impatiently to lead them to the village. He reached into his valise and pulled out his bible. Louie looked at him and smiled.

Makki started toward the cluster of huts that could be seen through a screen of trees. Louie shrugged and followed allowing Willi to bring up the rear. They hadn't walked far before Willi regretted being barefoot. He might have been well conditioned for handling the canoe, but he wasn't used to walking barefoot. The sun's heat quickly reddened his feet and he was curious to see if the Magistrate was experiencing a similar difficulty. He gave no outward sign, however, and Willi decided if the Frenchman could stand it, so could he.

Makki lead them among the huts to one set slightly further back into the trees, away from the beach. He stopped a respectful distance from the hut and called out. Willi could not understand what he said, and from Louie's expression, neither could he. They waited silently until an older woman who must have been stunning when she was younger came to the door. She was still very handsome, with long, still dark hair, a fine figure, and dark expressive eyes. Her face, however was shadowed with sadness and worry. Willi was impressed by her poise. Makki spoke briefly and gestured to Louie and Willi. She looked quietly at both of them.

She spoke in flawless French. "Please forgive my husband for not greeting you himself. When the Devil Bird attacked our village, he was struck in the leg. It is very painful and our medicine man is unable, or perhaps unwilling to treat it. He says it is the retribution of the Bird God and a reminder to all of us.

Louie waved his hand to signify that it was not a problem. "Madame, I have some skill treating the curses of various creatures on the people of my island. If you would send Makki to bring the black bag stored with our supplies, I would be pleased to see what I could do."

A hopeful look flashed through her eyes. "Please, when the French missionaries were here, they gave me the name Martha. Do you think you can help my husband?" She turned to Makki without waiting for a reply and issued rapid orders. He left at a full run toward the beach.

"Martha? It would give me great honor to try. May I see him while we wait for my supplies?"

Not knowing what else he can do, Willi followed Louie and Martha into the hut. It is much brighter inside that he expected and he can easily see the man laying on a low bed just out of sight of the door. His leg is badly swollen. Louie knelt quickly by the Chief.

The Chief's left leg was badly swollen from knee to hip with a puckered wound four inches above the knee. The skin is hot and dry to the touch.

"Martha, can you bring me some hot water and clean cloths?"

"You shall have them shortly." She turned to leave the hut.

Louie looked at Willi. He spoke in English. "I fear for the leg, mon ami. It is quite swollen. I do not know if the wound has become septic. I may have to probe, and cleaning the wound will be very painful. I may need your strength to hold him while I examine him."

Willi nodded. "Of course, Herr Magistrate."

Louie smiled his thanks. "Please move to the other side of the bed. Place your left hand on his hip, and your right below the knee."

When Willi was in place, Louie lightly touched the leg. The Chief moaned. Louie shook his head and cast his eyes about the room. He saw a small pile of sticks next to a brazier used for cooking and heat inside the hut. He took one and gently forced the stick between the Chief's jaws. The Chief was obviously a powerful man and Willi questioned his ability to hold him still enough for the Magistrate's purpose. He rose a little on his knees to bring the weight of his massive shoulders to bear on holding the patient still.

He watched intently as Louie probed the wound. The Chief moaned, shook his head and tried to arch his back. Willi moved to hold him still, and spoke softly to him in French. He explained to the delirious man that he was a Priest and that his companion was a great healer. Louie nodded his appreciation as he continued to feel the leg. Martha has come back in the room and stood silently, watching.

As if he sensed her gaze, Louie spoke to Martha. "Pardonne, Madame. I have not introduced myself. I am Magistrate of the island of Boragora. Makki and his father and brother came to our island seeking help from the Devil Bird. I came to see what I could do. My companion is Reverend Tenboom of the Dutch Reformed Church. He felt called to come to assist your people."

"We will be grateful for whatever assistance you can offer. Some men came two days ago out of the jungle with strange weapons and took most of our young men back into the jungle with them. They were led by the Devil Bird's priest." She spat in anger. "They were animals."

Louie looked at Willi and spoke, still in English. "This is a bullet wound. Would you not agree?"

Willi privately agreed, however. "I am but a lowly priest, Herr Magistrate. I have no experience with such. Is the bullet still in there?"

Louie nodded. "I think it is. And I think it must come out. We will use chloroform to keep the patient under, but he may still feel pain." Louie took a cloth and dipped it in the hot water. He used it to bathe the wounded area.

Martha watched with interest. "You dare to try to heal a limb cursed by the spirits? Our wise one warned against such. That it would be an insult to the God he says we have already angered by our disobedience."

Willi looked at her concerned and frightened face. He was impressed by the composure of a person he considered to basically be a superstitious savage. Still, he thought, she must have been a great beauty. She is still handsome, and well formed. Blessing her would not be a difficult task. Then he looked at the still powerful shoulders of the man prostrate before him. And then again, maybe it would not be such a good idea. His thoughts are interrupted by the Magistrate's voice.

"Madame, this is not a curse. It is a wound caused by a piece of metal in his body. I intend to remove it, and we will see how it goes from there. I'm very worried about infection."

Martha looked hopefully between Willi and Louie. Willi tried to give her a reassuring smile. "You are certain of this?" she said. "Our wise man said …"

"Madame, I'm certain your wise man is very good. It may be he was lied to by the Devil Bird's priest. But, I assure you that this is not a curse, but an injury, and can be treated. It will not be easy, and he may lose his leg, but we will keep him alive."

She smiled. In her smile you could see the beautiful young girl she had once been. "I must go." She rose gracefully and Willi would have said she dashed from the hut except for the grace in her movements. He looked at Louie, eyebrows raised. Louie merely shrugged and went back to washing his patient's leg. Finally, Louie took up another cloth and folded it very carefully. Placing it on his knee, he searched in his bag until he found a tightly stoppered dark bottle.

Holding the folded cloth out toward Willi he spoke softly. "Reverend, if you would be so good as to hold this cloth lightly over the Chief's nose and mouth. He must be able to breathe. I will administer this chloroform. It will help keep him quiet while I probe."

Willi complied, wrinkling his nose at the strong fumes. Louie carefully allowed a few drops of the liquid soak into the cloth. "Watch how I do this. It may be necessary to give him more as this wears off." Willi merely nodded watching the Magistrates hands. In a surprisingly short time, the Chief became very still.

"Bien," said the Magistrate in satisfaction. He took a slender steel rod out of his bag and carefully inserted it into the wound. The Chief twitched and Willi hurriedly pinned the leg back down. Louie nodded his thanks again and continued to probe. Willi marveled at the delicacy of the touch.

"You should be a surgeon, Herr Magistrate."

"I have not the temperament for such, Reverend. It is sometimes painful when one learns of his limits. However, I have had the opportunity to study wounds very closely. Aha! I have found it."

"Das ist gut!"

"Oui. But it is very close the bone, and a major artery is near. He is fortunate that the bullet did not clip the artery. And I must not."

A bustling sound in the hut signaled Martha's return. She knelt by Louie with a bowl full of crushed herbs and roots.

"My mother is a woman wise in the use of herbs for healing. She would not come here because of the wise one's warning. However, she did give me these. We moisten it to make a paste we put over wounds to prevent the evil spirits from entering. And she also gave me these."

Willi was shocked to see in her hand a leaf folded to hold crawling squirming grey worms. "Maggots. Get those digusting creatures away from this sick man."

Louie looked up quickly. "Non, mon ami, these are very good. When I was in Africa, I saw many injured people treated with maggots. They consume only the dead flesh and prevent gangrene." Louie turned to Martha as she was backing away. "Madame, please, do not go. You have done very well. Merci."

Martha smiled gratefully and eased closer to hold one of her husband's hands. Louie nodded his approval and continued to probe for the bullet. He grunted in satisfaction and withdrew the probe. Reaching into his bag he pulled out a long pair of forceps. Before continuing, he administered more chloroform. Mopping the sweat from his forehead, he probed again. He moved very slowly as he probed for the bullet. When he found it, he carefully opened the forceps enough to surround the bullet and clamp closed. Then he began to withdraw the instrument. It seemed at times to Willi that Louie's hand had stopped moving. The wait was an exquisite torture as he felt his lower back start to burn with the constant strain of the awkward position. His thighs were cramping, holding the position, but he did not dare to let up. One move by the patient at this point could possibly undo all of Louie's slow, careful effort.

Finally, Louie sat back with a sigh of relief and held up the forceps with the bullet tightly clenched in its jaws. Willi recognized the bullet as one of the 7.62 mm rounds from a light machine gun. With it's steel jacket, it was only slightly deformed. Willi released the breath he didn't know he had been holding. He sat back at Louie's quiet instruction to release the patient. He watched as Louie bathed the leg with warm water, soaked some of the herbs in hot water and then bathed the leg once more. It was all Willi could do to not gag when Louie put the maggots on the wound and covered it with some of the healing leaves bound loosely with a strip of clean cloth.

As a final step, Louie poured out a spoonful of thick white liquid. He carefully opened the Chief's mouth and poured it in, massaging the throat to get him to swallow. "Laudanum for the pain" he explained quietly. He capped the bottle, returned it to his bag and stood up, wincing as cramped muscles protested the movement. "He should sleep now. I'll check him during the night, and we will see how he is in the morning." He turned directly to Martha. "Madame, he should have a broth sometime, to begin restoring his strength. A thin fish soup would do."

She smiled. "This will be done, healer."

Louie held up a modest hand. "Madame, do not call me a healer, yet. We must wait."

She stroked her husband's hair back from his forehead to allow cooling air to touch the beads of sweat. "I was given to this man when I was very young. They told me it was a great honor. I did not know that, then. But now, he is very precious to me. We are one. I can feel" she paused to touch her breast "here, that he is better. I know now that he will be well, and will be whole. Your magic is great."

Louie smiled and bowed slightly to Martha. Willi envied his courtly grace. Louie extended a hand to help Martha stand. "I have learned, Madame, never to question a woman's intuition, or her love. I pray that you are right, and will be thankful to have had some small part in the happy miracle."

Martha smiled at her victory. "Come, gentlemen. We have been rude. We should have allowed you to eat and rest before such labors. Food is ready for you now. Please come."

The two men flanked Martha as they strolled through the village toward the center where obvious preparations were in progress for a feast. Willi looked about the village. He was surprised how the village was free of trash and litter. He complimented Martha who looked amusedly at him. "Only the rich have trash. We are too poor to leave anything unused."

Disaffection

Soon Louie and Willi were surrounded by happy natives, offering a place to sit, and a leaf for each filled with food; small chunks of meat, crisp white tubers, and chunks of fruit. Word had spread throughout the village that these two men had brought relief to their chief and they were all grateful. Although the villiage was having a hard time finding enough food to feed everyone, they gratefully shared what they had with the two strangers. Martha happily explained for them that the old man was alive and well, and Makki's health was clear evidence that the risky journey had gone well. Willi sensed a change in the general opinion of the village. Makki had told them of how his father had lost influence in the village. When he left, it had generated feelings of 'Good riddance' instead of hope. This feast was evidence of the shift in the belief that maybe the old man's medicine was still strong – stronger than his usurper.

The shift had such interesting side effects - Willi was extremely pleased with the comeliness of the young maiden who seemed bent on satisfying his every need. He wondered if that included desires as well. The young, generously rounded form reminded him of his flock back on Boragora. For now, it would be best to think only of the food, and the thankfulness of the natives. Makki was basking in the reflected glory as the one who had brought such good to his people. Except for one man who hung back in the shadows and glared at Louie and Willi. Willi was wondering if Louie had noticed when the Magistrate asked Martha, "Who is the surly one over there? He seems unhappy with our presence."

"That is Lorekki." She said darkly. "It is he who brought the Devil Bird priest to our village. He is our wise man." She grunted, a most unfeminine sound. "HE would have let my husband die."

Willi looked at Louie. "Although I am a Christian man of God, and would extend Grace to all, I feel that his heart is not full of light. While I am inclined to be charitable, I think he would bear watching."

"Oui, Reverend. Martha, would you ask Makki to quietly watch Lorekki. I would like to know what he does, and where he goes."

She smiled grimly. "It shall be as you say." She turned to Makki and issued soft, rapid fire orders. He nodded and continued eating. Willi could see though that his attention never left the wise man. Willi's observation was interrupted by Martha's next question. "The Healer called you Reverend?"

Willi nodded. "I am Willi Tenboom, Minister of the Dutch Reformed Church. I have a small flock of devoted worshipers on the island of Boragora."

"Then why are you here?" Her voice was curious.

Willi tore his attention from his lissome attendant. "God calls us, Frau Martha, to oppose evil and comfort the needy. When I heard of your plight, I could not ignore my call."

She looked unconvinced. "I have met priests before. I learned my French from such. I have never met one who came dressed as a native, paddling a canoe."

"God sometimes impresses the most unworthy into his service, to his Glory. It is nodt for me to question his purpose."

Martha nodded. "Truly your God is more powerful than many of our local spirits. I wait to see the outcome of his battle with the Devil Bird and her flock."

"We can only do our humble best, Frau Martha. The rest is in God's capable hands."

Louie cleared his throat. "Speaking of rest, I would like to turn in. It has been a long and tiring day. In the morning, I would like to set up our radio and make certain it is still working, and then attempt to find this Devil Bird. Is there somewhere we can sleep for the night, Madame, after I check on your husband?"

Martha smiled. "We have prepared huts for each of you. You may consider them your homes while on our island. Come."

As they stood, Lorekki disappeared into the shadows on the other side of the fire. Makki silently faded between two huts and moved quickly into the darkness. Willi and Louie looked at each other and nodded. At the Chief's hut they found two young men sitting just inside the door. Willi felt chagrined that he had not thought about the need to protect the Chief if he had any chance of recovering.

"It seems, Herr Magistrate, that our Martha is not the trusting kind."

"Oui. I had not thought of the danger to the Chief if he recovered. Now that we know more of the politics of this island village, it was a good precaution."

Louie knelt to examine the Chief. He lifted the poultice covering the wound. Willi was sickened to see the grubs happily feasting on the dead flesh around the wound, but the Magistrate appeared satisfied with what he saw.

"There is less swelling, and the flesh is less fevered. I am hopeful. The herbs appear to be working."

Again, Martha's face lost years as she smiled brightly. "You have given me back my husband. I am grateful."

Louie acknowledged her thanks. "And now, I would be grateful to rest for a while."

Martha quietly led them to their huts. Willi was surprised to see his young native attendant waiting by the door of his hut. The young eyes held a wisdom and purpose that Willi instantly recognized and relished. He watched guiltily as Louie entered his tent alone. An insistent tugging on his hand ended the debate and he ducked through the doorway of his temporary new home. His valise was already there. The young woman pulled him toward a low platform covered with fragrant grasses and a bright cloth.

He stroked the young face before him. "Somehow, I think you already understand blessings, my child. Can you say blessing?"

Looking into his eyes, she merely undid the knot of her wrap and let it fall to the floor. He gazed at her. "Dat is good enough for now, my child."

Two hours later he rose from the pallet, leaving Samli, for that was the name he had learned, curled sleeping like a kitten. He moved to the door to look outside at the stars. It was a beautiful night, a cool, clear night. A good night, he thought. He could just hear the surf in the distance. A moving shadow caught his eye. He looked in time to see Martha quietly entering the Magistrate's hut. She wore a free flowing wrap that hung from a single clasp at the shoulder. To his practiced eye, there was nothing under the wrap but Martha. The slow, quiet movements reassured him that she was not going to rouse the magistrate to an emergency. When she did not immediately come out, Willi smiled. It wasn't a doctor's usual payment, but he was certain the Magistrate would have no problem managing. He looked over his shoulder at the sleeping Samli. It was true, he reflected - God does reward those who selflessly do good. Well, maybe not so selflessly, but at least, good. Yes, he nodded, it was a good night. He turned to go back inside.

Signs

As if on cue, both men found themselves exiting their huts at the same time. The sun had not been up even an hour when they met in front of their huts. Willi looked at Louie's face, curious to see what he would find. Brown eyes met blue, giving nothing away.

"Gut Morgen, Herr Magistrate. I trust you slept well?"

"Oui, Reverend. It was a most restful night. I feel quite refreshed this morning."

Willi nodded. "Ve haff much to do today, do we not? Do you plan to search out the Devil Bird today?"

"First, I will check on the Chief. If he is resting quietly, I will see about something to eat, and inquire as to what our Makki was able to find out about our unhappy wise man. After that, we shall see about setting up the radio and contacting our friends on Boragora."

"Ja, ve should let them know that we are arrived safely. Can you tell them where we are?"

"Only in the most general of terms. I am able to establish coordinates, and I believe that Jake will be able to fly to them. The question is whether the Goose will fly at all."

Willi nodded. "Ja, der Goose was nearly cooked, as the Americaners like to say. The repairs were extensive even for Jake and Corky."

Louie started for the Chief's hut. "Well, that is out of our hands. We must have faith in our friends and focus on what we can do for these people. They appear to have managed to rebuild, but they are still prisoners. We must work to free them from the evil, whether spirit, or man-made."

Willi merely nodded as he followed Louie across the compound. At the Chief's hut, Willi watched closely for any sign between Louie and Martha for what transpired the night before. He could only admire the Magistrate's suave composure. He watched as Louie walked up to the chief and knelt by his side.

Louie pointed to the leg. "With your permission?"

The Chief nodded gravely and Louie quickly checked his forehead, took his pulse, and moved the bandage to examine the leg. Willi admired the deft sureness with which Louie examined the Chief. It was obvious to Willi that the chief was much improved, his forehead cool, and the leg looking much less angry. His wakefulness seemed alert and clear headed. Louie gave quiet, deferential instructions and encouraged the chief to get all the healing rest he could. He conferred quietly with Martha and motioned for Willi to follow him quietly out of the hut. As they walked toward the beach and their equipment, Willi couldn't resist a gentle probe.

"The Chief's wife appears a remarkable woman."

"Oui. She shows incredible composure over her husband's ordeal. Have you noticed that she governs the village? But she never challenges her husband's position. It is always 'my husband would like…' Truly she is an able administrator in her own right."

"You admire her, Herr Magistrate?"

"Oui, Reverend. She is a fascinating person."

"In more ways than one, I wouldt expect."

Louie looked at Willi, his eyes expressionless. "I find much about all these people to admire. I would not want to interfere with the harmony within this community."

Willi decided it would be wise to change topics. "Ve know one who is nodt in harmony. Ve must deal with him."

Louie looked around and diverted his course toward some women who appeared to be preparing breakfast. A slender, solitary figure was sitting on the ground against a tree trunk, eating pieces of cooked fish and fruit. Louie walked over and helped himself to some of the same laid out on a table and squatted next to Makki. Willi decided to do the same and sank to the sand on the other side of the young native. They all ate in silence. When they finished, Makki stood and walked back to the Chief's tent. A low call brought Martha to the door. As soon as she appeared, Makki began to speak rapidly. When he fell silent, Martha touched him gently on the shoulder. Her look was approving.

Martha turned to speak to Louie and Willi, and once again Willi marveled at the liquidity of her French. "Makki was able to follow Lorekki into the woods away from the village, toward the center of the island. He was met by two men with hair like the sun about an hour from the village and they went on toward the Devil Bird's lair. Makki has been watching all night for Lorekki to return."

"Bein." Louie smiled at Makki who beamed in return. "By now, I believe that the Devil Bird's priest knows we are here. From Jake's description, we can expect that we are facing a cell of Germans or German sympathizers. They must be raiding local shipping."

Willi did his best to look outraged. "Des Churmans. Vhy can dey nodt let go of der past? Des are no longer der islands. Dey should realize that. Vill Europe not be enough vor dem?"

Louie looked closely at Willi. "Do you really think they will stop with Europe, Reverend? I assure you, mon ami, that will not be enough. I have it on good authority that the Germans are supplying the Japanese with new technologies for their war machine. It is only a matter of time."

"So vat do you plan to do, Herr Magistrate?"

Louie stood up. "Come with me to the beach."

Willi got up and followed Louie out to the beach. Louie looked around for a moment, as if to get his bearings, and proceeded clockwise along the shore. They had walked twenty minutes when Louie stopped by an abandoned canoe. He motioned for Willi to assist as he pushed it off the sand and into the water. Willi groaned.

"So soon? Vere are we going?"

Louie got into the back of the canoe and picked up a paddle. "Not far."

Willi sighed and climbed into the front, picking up another paddle and pulling deeply into the water to move the canoe forward. They paddled briskly for fifteen minutes before Louie dug his paddle straight down to stop the canoe. He found a gourd lying in the bottom of the canoe attached to a long rope and a rock. He heaved both over the side. Louie started taking deep breaths and slid over the side into the water.

"Please wait here. I will be back in a moment."

Willi only nodded his assent. Louie took a deep breath and dove under the surface. Willi watched as a slow stream of bubbles rose to the surface near the floating gourd. After two minutes Willi grew concerned and heaved a large sigh of relief when Louie surfaced clasping a mollusk in his hand. Willi paddled the canoe to the Magistrate, took the mollusk and assisted him back into the boat.

"I vas growing concerned, Herr Magistrate."

Louie shrugged, breathing deeply. "It is not so difficult as diving for sponges." He pulled a knife from his belt and pried the shell open. Even Willi could tell that what was inside was dead.

Louie frowned. "This unhappy creature has been poisoned."

"I do not understand, Herr Magistrate."

"Martha told me last night that her people were having trouble feeding themselves. They rely on these as food, and collect the shells for shipment with some of the local island traders. The water here is foul, polluted."

"How can you tell, Herr Magistrate?"

"Almost all of the sea life down below is dead or dying. There is a band of corruption extending around the island in that direction." Louie pointed to where the twin peaks joined and flowed down to the shore in the distance. "I could feel the drag of the current. I suspect something is getting into the water near the air base."

"Vat do we do?"

"First, I think we will return to the village, set up the radio and contact our friends. Then, I think we shall do some exploring tomorrow."

Contacts

The afternoon had turned hot in Boragora. The dusty paths that served as streets were almost empty and the few shop vendors had retreated into the shade of their living quarters. Bells would let them know a customer had arrived.

The Monkey Bar was nearly deserted, just a few solitary drunks who had money to pay for drinks were seated along the back tables where they could lean their chairs against the wall and doze in the breeze created by the slowly turning ceiling fans. Louie's office was still except for a scratchy sound. "Normandie, this is First Mate, over?"

Corky, who's slouched in one of Louie's guest chairs, his scuffed brogans up on the table in front of a Hallicarafters short wave radio transmitter and receiver, snored and settled down into the chair, trying to be comfortable.

"Normandie, this is First Mate, over?"

Jack, dozing on the rug in front of the table woofed softly in his sleep.

"Normandie, this is First Mate over?"

Corky's feet dropped off the table to thump solidly by Jack's head. Jack barked indignantly.

"Sorry Jack. Go get Jake." Corky looked down briefly to make sure Jack has left before he straightened his body and turned toward the radio. He gripped the stand of a large microphone and pressed a button in the base. "First Mate, this is Normandie. First Mate, this is Normandie. Begin count. I say again, begin count."

"Normandie, this is First Mate. We copy. Beginning count. Une, Deu, Trois, Quatz, Cinq …"

As Louie continued his count, Corky reached over to the receiver. Mounted on top of it was a large loop on a round base with graduations marked in degrees, 360 of them. The base was oriented so that its zero pointed due north. A crank on the side of the base allowed Corky to rotate the loop antenna back and forth very slowly. Louie's voice faded in and out as the loop oscillated, seeking the strongest signal. Louie stopped counting at 25. Corky pressed the mike button.

"First Mate, we have your bearing. I repeat, we have your bearing. What's your status? Over?"

Jake and Sarah enter the office in time to hear Louie tell Corky, "the villagers are treating us well. There is one who does not care for our presence. We are watching him. A couple of the villagers have agreed to guide us to the nest of the Devil Bird tomorrow. We shall look around and come back. What is your progress on the recipe for roast Goose we discussed? Over."

Corky looked at Jake for guidance. Jake motioned gently for him to move aside. Jake picked up the microphone. "We have all the ingredients, First Mate. The Goose is soaking overnight. We'll heat everything up in the morning. Over."

"Tres Bien, mon ami. Tomorrow evening, you can tell me how it turned out. Over." Louie's voice sounded pleased.

Jake smiled. "We'll make sure you get a taste tomorrow. First Mate, this is Normandie signing off."

Jake set down the mike and signaled Corky to turn off the transmitter as they heard "First Mate clear."

"Jake," Sarah sounded upset. "There's more we wanted to know."

Jake looked down at Corky. "Did you get the bearing?"

"Sure thing, Jake. I had that before you got here."

Jake nodded. "Good job."

"Jake, why'd you cut it off so quick?" Sarah was not happy about being ignored.

Jake looked at her. "He's using a lot of power to reach us on a battery. It won't last long. Besides, we got his bearing, and I'd just as soon that no one else did. It's best only friends know where he is."

Jake pulled a chart out of his jacket pocket and walked over to Louie's office desk. He spread it out. He fished in another pocket to find a compass and a straight edge he had been carrying. "Corky, what was the bearing you got?"

"37 degrees off Due North."

Jake centered the transparent body of the base of the compass on the map, over Boragora. He carefully counted 37 degrees around the dial from North. He made a mark on the map at the edge of the compass dial. Moving the compass, he laid a straight edge ruler across Boragora and the mark. He then drew a line out across the chart. Sarah and Corky watched with interest.

"Gee Jake, that looks just like the first leg of a flight plan." Corky traced a finger along the line.

"Yes, Jake, but where is it going?" Sarah's question struck at the heart of the problem.

"I don't know. There's not a lot out there. If we're right and the Devil Bird is an airplane, the island has to be large enough for an airbase." Jake studied the chart and drew circles around two specks on the chart.

Sarah looked at the two specks. "Why those, Jake?"

"This isn't a proper aviation chart. It's for shipping. I'm looking at the depths of the water around the islands. If they are being supplied by submarine, these two islands have deep water coves where a submarine would be comfortable approaching the shore."

"That's a long way from here." Sarah's voice sounded as distant as the two spots on the map.

Jake looked thoughtful. "It's in range of the Goose, just. We'll have to carry fuel for the run back. If we find an airfield, we might be lucky and find fuel. It's a long shot."

Corky kept staring at the chart, looking for answers that weren't there. "We won't have enough fuel for a lot of hunting around if we're wrong. How do we know which island?"

Jake looked very carefully at Sarah. "Sarah, don't you have to go check your room for that new music for this evening?"

"Oh, Jake, I don't have any new music. Besides I've got hours before I need to sing."

Jake looked exasperated. "Josh brought you that new music the last time he was ashore. I was hoping you would sing it tonight. Then I could tell him you were using it." He nodded toward the door. "Josh? He'd heard the song on … the radio. Don't you remember?"

"Oh. Josh's new song." Sarah raised her head and stood on tiptoes and dropped back down in a single exaggerated nod of understanding. "I don't remember where I put that. I'd better go look for it. Thanks for reminding me, Jake. Without Louie here, I'd forget my head." Sarah hurried out the door.

Jake patted a confused Corky on the shoulder. "If we're gonna fly the Goose in the morning, you'd better check her over. I'll monitor the radio. Jack will keep me company, won't you Jack?"

Corky smiled at the two woofs and left the room. Jake sat down in the chair by the radio, propped his feet on the table, tilted his head back with his hat covering his eyes. He was promptly asleep. Jack started to lie down on the rug, looked thoughtfully at Jake's feet, and moved to the rug by Louie's desk.

Direction

Jake felt like he'd barely closed his eyes when Sarah came clattering back into the office.

"Hey, sleepyhead."

Jake swung the chair around as his feet dropped to the floor close to Louie's desk, narrowly missing Jack. Jack barked once sharply.

Jake looked down. "Sorry, Jack. How long has it been, Sarah."

Sarah looked at the ornate clock above Louie's desk. "About an hour. How do you feel?"

"OK, I guess. Did the Hancock get the message?"

Sarah held up a small piece of notepaper in her hand. "Sure did. I've got their coordinates and the bearing on the strongest signal."

Jake smoothed out his chart where it lie on top of Louie's desk. Sarah read off the Hancock's position. Jake carefully marked the position on his chart. Sarah read off the heading. Again, Jake used his compass to draw a line out from the Hancock's position. He extended the line until it crossed the line from Boragora.

Sarah squealed with joy. "Jake, they cross over the first island. You were right." She hugged him briefly.

Jake grinned in response. "Sure looks like the right place."

Sarah stared at the chart. "It's almost too easy. Could we be wrong, Jake?"

Jake cast his eyes over the chart. He was worried about the same thing. He looked at all the points he'd plotted on the chart. As many as he had, they were still too widely separated on the vast South Pacific. Finally, one data point caught his eye. Wordlessly, he picked up his straight edge and extended a third line. It crossed the other two almost exactly on the island. He grunted in satisfaction as he laid down his pencil.

"Jake, what's that?"

Jake placed his finger on the dot. "That's where Corky and I saw the mystery plane. I took down the heading when I followed him that afternoon."

"So we really do know where the island is."

Jake nodded. "I'd say we've got it dead in our sights."

Sarah leaned against Jake. It was a warm, companionable gesture. "Josh said that the Hancock was already steaming on that heading. It will take them some time to get there. I can at least let them know how far they have to go."

Jake nodded. "Do that. Corky and I will get ready to go there in the morning."

Sarah turned, still leaning against Jake. He put his arm around her as he looked down. "It's my mission, Jake. I'm going, too."

Jake could think of a thousand reasons to say no. But he remembered once before, a time when others thought she should stay behind and he had said she had the right. It had not been a good time, and he'd often wished that he didn't have to worry about her when trying to decide what to do. Still …

"Sure, Sarah. I wouldn't have it any other way."

She gave him a quick squeeze and a million watt smile. "You're swell, Jake. I'll just go pack a bag."

With that, she was gone, but the warmth on his side was still there. He picked up his compass and straight edge and stuck them back in his pocket. He gently folded the map and walked out of Louie's office whistling "I Wished on the Moon."

Down at the dock, Jake found Corky checking the oil on the port radial. In the heat he'd removed his usual white jacket and had already sweat through his grubby once white t-shirt. Jake shaded his eyes and called up to him.

"How's she look, Corky?" His eye strayed over to the new float. It was indistinguishable from the original. Corky had done an amazing job building the replacement.

Corky wiped his hands on a waste rag. "The new float is installed, the radio works, and I checked the bilges and there's no change in the water level. I keep thinking I forgot something but I can't think of what it was."

Jake pointed to a small square patch on the wing beyond the port engine. "Did you check those?"

"Oh, yeah. I checked those after everyone went to bed last night. Everything looks OK." Corky looked worried. "Uh, you didn't expect me to test them, did you? I couldn't figure out how to do that."

Jake shook his head. "No, I don't see any chance to test them. We'll just have to hope they work when the time comes. With luck, it won't be any time soon."

"Yeah, Jake. Maybe never."

Jake agreed, but something deep down said that wasn't going to be the case. He suspected that a peaceful solution to all this was not in the cards. He was pretty sure, now that the Devil Bird had taken on the identity of an armed airship bent on destruction, that the outcome would be a duel in the sky. There were too many new holes in the Goose now. The only way to avoid shooting was to stay in the lagoon and leave Louie and Reverend Tenboom to their own devices. Sarah would never accept that, and neither would he. In the best Boy Scout tradition, he had prepared. Now it was time to put the preparations to the test.

Thinking about preparations, Jake went to the aft cabin bulkhead and checked the box bolted there with a large red cross emblazoned on it. He opened it to check the contents. He made a note to get some extra bandages and tape from Louie's supplies in the hotel. He also made a note to lay in some extra bottles of water and snacks. He didn't know how long he would be gone. He moved Jack's blanket long enough to check that tools were in place and the meager few spare parts were stashed in the tool box bolted to the spars in the aft cargo hold. When done, he carefully replaced the blanket. He held his breath as he handled it. It really needed washing and smelled of old wet dog, but he knew Jack would have a fit. He decided to let well enough alone.

A basso rumble on the dock caught Jakes attention. He recognized the sound and knew he'd better get out on the dock. He popped his head out in time to see Corky struggling to upright a 55 gallon drum of aviation fuel. Sweat was dripping off his face and his entire t-shirt was soaked.

"How many of these do you want to take, Jake?"

Jake ran some mental calculations. "I don't see how we can handle more than six drums. That's about a ton of cargo capacity. That's pushing our luck. We'll need a lot of water to take off."

"She won't like that, Jake."

Jake nodded. "The only advantage is that we'll burn off fuel as we go, and won't have to deal with it coming back."

"O-OK, Jake. It'sa good thing we got those lighter seats. Guess we don't really need them as we aren't carrying passengers this flight."

Jake looked uncomfortable. "Uh, Corky, we will need the seats coming back, and Sarah is going with us."

"Dya think that's a good idea, Jake?"

No I don't, Jake decided not to say. "She's concerned about Louie and needs something to do, Corky."

"She could stay and sing. Keep the customers happy."

Jake nodded. "She could, but she wants to come with us. She's been in on this from the beginning."

"OK, Jake. Maybe I'll let her ride up front with you and Jack and I can catch some Z's."

Two woofs emphasize Jack's agreement.

Jake grinned and started up the dock. "I'll help you get the barrels down, Corky."

"Thanks, Jake. Sure wish I could get a beer."

Jake turned to look at Corky, concern on his face.

Corky held up a placating hand. "I know, Jake. I'm working. And I'll be working tomorrow. No beer today."

Jake looked relieved and held out a clenched hand with the thumb jutting vertically straight up.

How Many C(r)ooks

Willi struggled up the steep bank, once again cursing the situation that had him wearing a native costume instead of good German wool to fend off stinging branches and bugs. How could that effeminate Frenchman look so comfortable? Willi was so deep into his misery he almost ran over Louie, who had stopped with their guide on the edge of a small clearing.

"Vat now?" he exclaimed angrily.

Louie pointed ahead to a small human figure, all in black, with a tightly bound black hood over the head. The black clothing blended perfectly with the mottled shading of the surrounding vegetation that the costume almost disappeared in the shadows. "It looks like we have company, mon ami."

"Are we close? Is this a guard?"

Louie shook his head. "I doubt a guard would be looking into camp. I suspect we are not the only ones interested in what goes on here," He whispered.

Willi stared hard at the shadow. "Vat now?"

Louie looked at the sky. It was only early afternoon. "We have time. We will wait."

Makki proved his agreement by gently sliding down the bank and stretching comfortably on his back. Louie slid down a very short distance until only his eyes and forehead were visible around the tree bole. "I will take the first watch, Reverend. Why don't you rest for an hour?"

Willi nodded and simply dropped his head down to crossed forearms. He appeared instantly asleep. As he relaxed, he could hear all the sounds the island made around him. His mind cataloged animal, insect, and plant sounds. Occasionally he heard faint sounds that were clearly man made. He heard metal on metal, occasional voices speaking an oh so familiar German, and occasional cheers, as if a game were in progress. His mind drifted to games he had played as a boy, visualizing the players and the spectators. His eye roamed the crowds until he caught the shy smile of some lovely feminine admirer. He remembered games won, and private victory celebrations with devoted fans. Although he thought he was awake the whole time, he started when a hand softly touched his shoulder, disturbing one particularly fine memory of a devoted fan.

Willi started to raise his head slowly, quietly – like any good soldier, then realized that was the wrong action. He jumped a little as if startled, inhaling hugely as if to shout. A firm hand clamped over his mouth. He struggled an instant and then opened his eyes. First he saw Louie leaning over him – one hand at the back of his neck holding him down and the other over his mouth. He nodded and Louie released his grip. Willi's eyes automatically tracked to where the black clad figure had stood earlier. Longer shadows covered the area, but he still knew that it was empty.

"Wo bist?"

Louie tilted his head up the bank. "They moved up the bank a few minutes ago. Makki is following. We will have no trouble locating them."

Willi simply nodded and gently raised to his knees, keeping his torso parallel to the ground and his head down. He and Louie followed Makki's trail up the hillside. They had climbed a couple of hundred feet when they found themselves on the edge of a level shelf on the side of the mountain. What had been a naturally occurring flat on the slope, had been partially graded to provide a level surface several thousand feet long. Where possible, natural growths had been left untouched to provide shelter and concealment for what was obviously a hard-packed dirt and crushed stone airstrip.

Willi and Louie had to divide their attention between the airstrip and their mysterious observer, crouched down in bushes about 200 yards to their left. Careful study revealed them to be on the southeast corner of the clearing. To the north was more hillside, extending several hundred feet above the clearing. Further to the east was the end of the graded airstrip and the eastern end of the flat. Between the airstrip and themselves appeared to be supplies on pallets and covered with tarps. Across the airstrip were several trees and in the late afternoon light they could see men walking among the trees on their way to and from a group of four man tents. West of that, also across the airstrip were two large tents, with the sides rolled up, the area protected by stacked sandbags. One had tables and kitchen equipment and was clearly the dining and meeting hall. It looked capable of seating about sixty people. The second large tent appeared to be a control center with desks, and radio equipment. Willi was certain he knew exactly what frequencies those radios used the most often. Not that he had any intention of telling Louie that.

A small cluster of trees partially obscured their view of the next feature between the airstrip and the mountainside but they were able to tell that it was a partially covered and camouflaged revetment containing a large garishly-painted single-engine transport plane. Willi immediately recognized the plane as the early variant of the Junkers JU-52 that Jake claimed he had seen, but that was something else he had no intention of telling the Magistrate.

With this improved vantage point, the soft sounds heard earlier made sense. Occasional metal on metal came from the men working on the transport. Other shouts and cheering seemed to be coming from several off-duty men playing a game of soccer further down the airstrip. Their black clad observer seemed to be devoting most of his attention in that direction. As far as Willi was concerned, that was just fine. So far, he thought he and Louie were still unobserved. That was how he wanted it. Willi proceeded to spend his time counting the people he could see moving about the camp. Louie had pulled pencil and a small notebook from his pocket and seemed to be drawing a map of the terrain. Willi nodded approval.

Nothing significant happened until the early onset of dusk. Men started filtering into the open dining hall tent and seating themselves at tables. It was clear that dinner was about to be served. The wind had prevented any smell of the food preparation from coming their way and again Willi was glad, for fear that his rumbling stomach might give him away. Each of the three men had some fruit and fish in their packs and had been quietly snacking from time to time. Right then, Willi would have been thankful for one of Jake Cutter's SPAM sandwiches, even if that was no proper meat for a good German. Although Louie might not know, Willi had no trouble picturing what would be on the tables under that tent. His mouth watered at the thought of German sausages, kraut, good German potato salad, and dark rye bread. Maybe there would be spicy German mustard for the sausages and good German beer to wash it down. Oh, it was too much to think about. He tried to remember the last time he had had a good German meal. Something that would stick to your ribs. Probably that time he had visited the German plantation owner and his beautiful daughter, Marta. Ja, he had set a proper German table, und that Marta – she understood a man's appetites, and knew how to satisfy them. Willi smiled at the thought only to be startled at a gentle touch on his sleeve.

"Reverend, I think now would be a good time to find out just who our friend is, over there."

"Ja, Herr Magistrate." Willi eyed the slight form. "You cover me, and I will come up behind him."

Louie looked concerned. "Be very careful, Reverend. This is not your usual activity."

"Nein, Herr Magistrate. But when I was a boy, Axel und me played many times the game of Capture. I vas always the best."

Louie merely nodded toward the target and smiled. Willi moved out soundlessly. For a large man, he made almost no sound moving through the trees. His intended target was so intent on the clearing that Willi was able to come right up behind, wrap his arms around, and pin the figure on the ground.

Two things surprised Willi at that point. First, his opponent did not cry out, nor lie still. Willi was instantly busy avoiding silent, but powerful kicks and blows from someone who should have been pinned motionless by his greater weight. These were not random flailings, but focused attacks. His opponent was intent on escaping without a sound. That was eerie enough, except as he moved his hands to restrain the violence, his senses registered softness and contours that should not have been there. He managed to get one hand to the hood and remove it, revealing long black hair, dark eyebrows, and the furiously flashing dark eyes of

"Princess Koji"

The voice echoed his thought and might have been his own were it not for the fact that the voice was a light tenor, compared to his usual bass. It was Louie who had spoken.

To her credit, Koji immediately ceased her attack as Willi rolled off her. She looked more chagrined at having been overtaken so easily than surprised at their presence. Still her voice was droll. "This is hardly the place or time I would choose for one of your blessings, Reverend."

Louie was the first to respond. "Princess Koji, this is unexpected. Although, on reflection, I suppose I should not have been surprised. You have a way of … how does our Jake Cutter put it … ah … you have a way of turning up."

Koji sat up and proceeded to rearrange her clothing to close some intriguing gaps. "You must forgive me if I'm not flattered by the description, Magistrate. It makes me sound like some sort of rock."

"Only in the sense of someone firm and immovable in their resolve, or perhaps in their reliability."

Koji looked at Louie, her expression giving Willi the impression of someone deciding to let a bug live, instead of squashing it.

"Princess Koji, vhat brings you here?"

Koji gave Willi a long look. He half expected her to say she didn't need to explain her presence. That was her usual style and from the expression on her face, that was her first impression, and then she appeared to change her mind. "Reverend, I told the good Magistrate that I intended to investigate those responsible for the deaths of my people."

Willi tried not to laugh out loud about that concern. He'd seen how casually she treated life.

"When outsiders kill my people I look weak. They look to me to protect them." Koji paused to check her surroundings. "My fishing fleet discovered this island and its secret. I came to investigate."

Louie looked around. "What are your plans now, Princess?

"Why do you want to know, Magistrate? Do you still think this out-of-the-way rock is in your jurisdiction? Or that anyone cares whose jurisdiction?"

Louie examined his finger nails as if answers would grow there. "Princess, I see no point in arguing about it." He looks levelly at Koji. "What is here should not be. There appears to be enough here for everyone. It merely remains to decide on a course of action."

Koji smiled. "Choose your objectives, gentlemen. My men will be in place before dawn. We intend to destroy this camp."

Louie nodded as if he expected nothing less. He pulled binoculars from his pack and proceeded to study as much as he could in the fading light.

Willi already knew what he had to do. "I vill take the radio shack and command post."

Louie and Koji looked at him in surprise.

"Idt is most logical. The tents are too many. It is better for Princess Koji's people. You, Herr Magistrate, you must examine the aeroplane to determine if it is the source of the attacks. You will need evidence. My Churman may be useful to sort through papers in the command post." Willi chose not to mention that the only people who would recognize him were in the command post and he needed to take care of them.

Louie hesitated. "Reverend, you are a man of God. This may involve the taking of lives."

Koji nodded. "Perhaps, Reverend, it would be better let someone else take the post."

Willi felt the anger start to burn. "Vat do you think I am? A coward?"Just as quickly, cold reason recognized their point. More softly, "Did not our Heavenly Father tell the Israelites to leave none alive when taking the promised land? And on the cross, did not our gentle Christ save only one of the thieves? Truly, this is no different than the holy crusades where monks and priests took up armor and swords to reclaim Jerusalem from the infidels. I assure you that I vill haff no problem doing vhat I must to dese murderers." Not to mention keeping his own neck out of a French guillotine.

Willi watched Louie and Koji exchange a glance. He held his breath for their response. Finally, Willy nodded.

"Bien. The Reverend will approach the command post." Louie looked up from his notebook. "You will need a weapon."

Willi smiled wolfishly as he held up his Bible. "There are plenty there. I will take one and consecrate it to God's purpose."

Louie smiled back. "As you say. Princess Koji, if you have no objection, I will work my way to the aeroplane maintenance area and examine it. I will take care of any guards."

Koji looked at the perimeter of the airfield. "My men will take care of the tents and their occupants. I will take care of the guards on this side of the runway. I must go shortly to make sure my people have their assignments. I will return before dawn. Do not attack without me." With that she stood and moved into the shadows. The two men watched her go.

Willi spoke into the quiet. "Do you think we can trust her?"

Louie shrugged. "Do we have a choice? I'm certain her band of cut throats has us well outnumbered."

"Ja, I'm certain you are correct. I guess we spend the night waiting here."

Louie looked over to where Makki was resting. "Reverend, I think our young friend has no business in what is about to come."

Willi nodded. "Vat do you propose?"

"I think, in the morning, Jake will be here with the Goose. We could send Makki back to the village to meet them."

Willi sniffed. "Thinkest du" Willi used the familiar without thinking. "that Jake will get the Goose flying in time?"

"I have no doubt that Jake will be here if he has to sit on the nose of the Goose and flap his arms to get it to fly."

To the Rescue

First light on Boragora found Jake Cutter sitting on the very nose of the Goose at the dock – his arms outstretched. Jack was sitting on the dock staring at him.

"Jack, whaddaya mean the Goose isn't ready to go?"

One bark.

"What's a matter with you? We've supplies, fuel, and spare parts. We've warmed up the engines, taxied around the lagoon, and drained the bilges. We changed the oil. Even the radio works. There's nothing wrong."

One bark.

Jake dropped his arms except to point one toward the Monkey Bar. "Jack. Even Corky says the Goose is ready to go."

One bark.

"Jack, I've done a complete pre-flight. Once everyone is down here, we'll be ready to go."

One bark.

"Wait a minute. Let's check. One bark is 'no' and two barks is 'yes', right?"

Two barks.

Jake nodded. "So you think something is missing and the Goose is not ready to fly."

Two barks.

"Ok, Jack. Can you give me any idea what the problem is?"

Jack dropped his head and whined.

Jake leaned forward, almost tilting off his seat. "OK, Jack. We have to go. Whatever it is, we'll just have to discover." Then with a slight pleading tone, "Will you come with us?"

One bark. Jake started to straighten up. "Well …" A second hurried bark.

Jake smiled. "… good! We'll need your luck."

Two barks.

"OK, Jack. You go get Corky and Sarah. I'll go over the Goose one more time while you're gone. Maybe I can find the problem."

Jack issued one more bark, then trotted up the walk to the Monkey Bar. Jake shook his head thinking he had to be crazy to be arguing with a dog about something as complex as an airplane. Even so, he thoroughly searched the plane. While at it, he put a new blanket on the tool box in the rear that Jack used for a bed when flying. He slid a couple of Hershey chocolate bars into Corky's tool box as a surprise. He placed a blooming stem of one of the island flowers on the co-pilot's seat, knowing Sarah will claim that seat as her "mission" status.

He grabbed the fuel cup from the box on the bulkhead and swung out under the port wing. He opened the tank drain on that side and pulled a sample. It looked fine, there was no indication of water in the fuel. He checked the starboard drain. There were liquid bubbles floating in the cup. Water in the gas. Who knew how it got there, but it was a sure fire way for an engine to cut out, or a fuel line freeze at altitude. He opened the drain and just let it run. Every little bit, he'd catch a cup full and check. On the fourth try, it finally came out uniform. Fortunately, water was heavier than gas and would drain from the bottom of a tank before the fuel would. He looked at the size of the rainbow iridescent puddle on the water of the lagoon. Not too bad, not even enough really to be worth trying to top the tank. He decided he wouldn't tell Jack. No sense him gloating.

After checking to make sure no one was coming, Jake climbed out of the nose hatch and up on the main wing. He opened each of the phony inspection ports to make sure the cartridge belts for the guns were properly laid in place and able to feed without jamming. Dropping back down onto the dock, Jake stepped into the rear hatch and walked back forward to the cockpit.

He reached behind his seat and checked the heavy .45 Colt revolver he kept stashed there. He made sure there was no cartridge under the hammer. In a makeshift pocket on the pilot's seat, next to the bulkhead, he checked for his usual stock of SPAM and cheese. He didn't need the shinny new tins to remind him of the reason the scratched and battered ones weren't there any more.

He opened his battered airline pilot's map case to make certain that all his charts were in place. He found the chart with all the marking and locations. He made sure it was his original, and was unaltered. He shook his head. Everything was as ready as he knew how to make it.

Footsteps coming down the dock signaled the end of his time to consider any more. The team was here, and it was time to go. Jake debated a moment and then dropped into the pilot's seat. He'd waited long enough and the sun was about to come up. He wanted to be gone. He shouted for everyone to mount up as he flipped the mag switches for starting the starboard engine. It was away from the dock and would give folks a little more time to get in and get settled.

Jack stood on the dock staring through the open side window at Jake. He barked twice.

"Come on, Jack. We gotta go."

Jack looked around the dock and at the water. He sniffed the air, looked at Jake and barked twice.

"Jack, I don't know what you are talking about. Now come on!"

Jack whuffed once, and then trotted back to the rear hatch. Jake shook his head, picked up the battered check list, and started with the first item. He heard Sarah's little cry of surprise at the flower on her seat, accepted the brief hug, and kept going down the list. Knowing enough to not want to disturb his concentration any further, Sarah sat down in the co-pilot's seat and strapped herself in. From the corner of his eye, Jake appreciated how the clenched belt emphasized her slender waist. Corky came forward to look in the cockpit and watch. When Jake reached the point of starting the port engine, he handed Sarah the check list to free both hands. With mags on, and carb heat to full, Jake cranked the big radial. Since the engine was already warm from the predawn run-up, the engine caught immediately and settled quickly to an even, throaty roar. He listened for a moment, intent on sensing any possible miss. Jack and Corky poked their heads into the space.

"Sounds good, Jake." Corky sounded pleased. Jack whined.

Jake nodded, and impatient to be away, let the single engine start pulling the Goose away from the dock. Once clear, he let the plane crab slightly on the water as he prepped the port engine. A few moments later, it added its voice to the symphony and Jake toyed with the throttles to synchronize the engines. They idled smoothly. Jake looked at Jack as if to say "no problem." Jack whuffed and went back to the aft cargo hold. Jake grinned and advanced both throttles to take-off power. The Goose climbed up on the step to take off to the east. Already Jake was scanning for a cross-shaped silhouette on the horizon.

Action

Willi had just opened his eyes and decided where he was when the black shadow moved to stand over him. His left hand intercepted the hand moving to cover his mouth. Princess Koji acknowledged the shake of his head and moved away silently. Willi sat upright to see that Louie was already up, eating a leaf-wrapped ball of fish and rice. Koji handed Willi a packet containing two of the same and a slice of mango from one of two bags she carried. Willi nodded appreciatively while thinking that he'd rather have some good German sausage and a hard-boiled egg. He almost lost his appetite as he noticed that second of the bags seemed to move on its own. He prayed it was a trick of the poor light, but somehow knew better. He didn't ask.

While eating he looked through the jungle canopy to see the stars. It looked to be about two hours to dawn. He nodded. It was early enough to move before the crews started preparing for the first morning flight, assuming there was a morning flight.

He was just gnawing the last bit of fruit from the rind when Koji moved to wrap a black silk band around his upper left arm. He moved away.

"Vas tuen Sie?"

Koji explained without a translation. "My people will know not to shoot you by mistake."

Willi comprehended but decided to push back. He still wasn't sure of his status with the Princess. "Ja, it is better dat dey shoot me on purpose."

Koji smiled. It was a grim smile, but still, somehow, reassuring. "When I decide you are to be shot, Reverend, I will reserve that pleasure for myself. I will want you to see it coming."

Louie looked at the two of them. He already wore an armband and a black headband bearing the Princess' private crest – a celtic knot on sunburst transfixed by a dagger. Willi prayed Louie's usual continental discretion would keep him from asking about the dialog, and his prayers were answered. In the meantime, Willi liked the additions even more as with these providing some concealment of his identity; he could more easily deny ever being on the island. He reached down and scooped up a handful of dirt to rub into his hair and face, turning both a dull brown and killing any shine. Koji studied the effect and nodded.

Koji reached into the bag from which she'd drawn the food. This time she pulled out a pistol. Willi was surprised to see that it was a German Mauser.

"Are you certain, Reverend, that you would not like to have one of these?"

Willi shook his head and held up his hands. "God will provide. Und, I have these. Der pistol, it is noisy."

Louie looked ready to protest. Willi spoke softly to him. "Magistrate, worry not about me. I will fulfill my part mitout der weapons."

Louie and Koji both shook their heads and then, nodded.

Preparations complete, they moved out. Since the eastern end of the runway was close, they decided to circle it and move through the trees rather than risk the exposure of crossing the runway. They stopped in the trees just beyond the end of the runway, Louie and Willi using binoculars to establish more of the layout in their minds. From this vantage point, they were better able to place key features on Louie's hand-drawn map, and added several that had not been visible from their earlier vantage point. Willi studied the map, fixing the details in his mind.

"Ve go now." At Louie's nod, the three turned the corner on the runway and moved deeper into the trees. Princess Koji moved into the area of the tents full of sleeping soldiers. She began reaching into the second dark bag. As Louie and Willi moved past the tent area they caught a glimpse of her distributing small, wiggling rope-like objects at each tent. Willi surpressed a shudder and made a mental note to stay away from that part of the camp. He was certain that it would not be healthy. He paused as he and Louie passed the dining tent. He motioned for Louie to continue. Nodding, Louie disappeared quietly into the trees.

As soon as Louie was out of sight, Willi dug into his shoulder bag and removed the old bible. He removed the pistol and the silencer and screwed the two together. He checked the loads. Moving to the wall of the tent, he looked in to see what was happening. There was nothing. No one was yet in the dining area or the field kitchen set up beside it. Willi moved on to the command tent. Here, he saw two men. One was clearly a radio operator, the other a guard. From the relaxed posture of the two, they were taking a break from the tedium of a long, uneventful night. Willi snorted softly. That would soon come to an end. The guard was carrying a Bergmann MP35 manufactured by Junker & Ruh, further proof that this was an operation staffed and run by German SS forces. It was an excellent weapon for subduing poorly armed natives at close range. Willi made a note to make sure he came away with one. It was also the deciding point for his targets. He took careful aim at the guard. He rehearsed pulling the trigger and then swinging the pistol to the radio operator. He did it three times to be certain he could do it smoothly, quickly, and accurately.

Finally he steadied the silencer on the top sandbag of the wall and focused his aim on the guard. He took three deep breaths. He took a fourth, released all of it until he didn't feel he needed to breathe any more, and double-tapped the trigger. The heavy silencer kept the barrel and sights on target. The guard began to fall silently to the ground. Still not needing to breathe, his body completely relaxed, Willi swung the barrel to the radio operator and repeated the double-tap. The operator slumped in his seat. Willi held his sight picture, verifying that both men were out of action.

Finally, Willi was ready to move. He wanted to be in position before anyone else came into the command shack. He moved to a gap in the sandbags and stepped into the command center. He made sure both were dead. He looked around the center and saw where some barrels were placed in a corner to collect trash. He carefully moved both into the corner and moved the barrels to conceal the bodies after removing a uniform tunic and pants that looked like they might fit his frame. True to his promise to himself, he collected the BMP 35 and the clips of extra ammo carried by the guard. He stashed those and moved back into the camp area. He found two guards walking patrol near the command post. Both were armed with the BMP35's. He stalked each and silently broke their necks. He moved both into the trees, returning to scoop dirt and sand over the bodily fluids death had released and brushed over the heel marks left dragging the bodies. Again he collected the weapons and clips. He hid one machine gun in the brush, kept the other and slid all the clips into his shoulder bag. Thoughtfully, he removed the silencer from his pistol and stashed the pieces back into the Bible. He didn't think he would need it any longer.

Satisfied that the area was clear for the moment, Willi moved back into what he thought of as the command tent. He needed to decide his next step. He was tempted to don the uniform, but was loath to give up the protection of the arm and headband. Still, anyone walking in and seeing him in native garb would be immediately on the alert. He needed to be able to search the area without raising an alarm. He had no idea where Rolf was, and that concerned him. He could not afford to be recognized. Finally, with great reluctance, Willy slipped on the uniform pants and tunic, leaving the armband in place. He placed the headband in his pocket. He hoped, when the time came, he could easily doff the shirt and don the headband before one of Koji's mercenaries decided to take his life.

Once done, he proceeded to go through all the documents around the radio. A well-organized radio operator had placed his frequencies on the face of the radio along with other important frequencies. Willi hastily pulled all the notes off the radio. Lacking any convenient means of secure disposal, he put them in his mouth and chewed them to paste. He also found log books listing every radio contact. He couldn't chew these up, and had no intention of trying to rip out pages. That would have been too obvious that someone was trying to hide something. As he stood debating what to do, he noticed a large container of water. An idea began to form. He soaked the books in water. Soon they were illegible. He laid them on the work surface of the radio. He walked over to the generator and picked up a can of kerosene. He poured kerosene all over the radio station. He went to the corner and pulled the body of the radio operator back to the station and propped him on the chair. He leaned the still form over onto the table and placed a partial book of matches just off the fingertips of his left hand. He surveyed the scene. He kicked the kerosene can over on its side so that it splashed around as if dropped. He nodded in satisfaction. Now all he had to do was wait. He proceeded to continue to search the area. Anything that looked compromising, he placed on the pile on the radio table. He left the large map with pins in it. It was obviously part of the mission planning. He found a very interesting file on spies Rolf was using in the area. He was reading it when he heard screams from the tent area. He smiled, Koji's wiggling soldiers were hard at work.

Guards began to move in the direction of the east end of the runway. As he watched, two were dropped silently by arrows from unseen archers. That was Willi's cue to get rid of the uniform and revert to his native guise. He moved into the darkness, away from the command post. As guards came by, he shot two. Then he moved back to the post and lit the kerosene. It blazed quickly. He jumped slightly when the matchbook on the table flared. He let it burn for a short time, shooting two more guards as they came to investigate, and poured the water all over the flames. Naturally, with a kerosene fire, water was no help. He then proceeded to attempt to beat it out with his stolen shirt. He was hard at that when black clad forms moved alongside him and began to help. One had pulled the hood back to reveal Koji's long black hair. She saw the bodies and nodded her approval. An explosion to the west caused both to turn and look, moving away from the fire.

Willi recognized the outline of the large revetment. "It is der aeroplane. Do you suppose der soldiers oder der Magistrate destroyed it?"

Koji shrugged. "I don't know. I would have liked to have the plane for myself. I will be very disappointed if the Magistrate were responsible."

Willi nodded as he noticed for the first time that the Sun was barely above the horizon. It had been a busy morning already.

Reaction

Jake landed the Goose and taxied into a small cove in the shoreline created by a creek. He had flown over the village and expected Makki to lead someone to meet them. He got out of the Goose and was securing it to a tree when Sarah started to exit through the nose hatch.

"Jake, look!"

Jake turned to see her pointing toward the tallest peak. Two thirds of the way up there was a large plume of smoke and several smaller ones.

"Jake, what do you suppose that is?" Corky called through the open side window of the cockpit. He'd been shutting down the avionics when Sarah shouted.

Jake scrambled up onto the nose deck of the Goose, eased past Sarah in the nose hatch, and then climbed on up to stand on the main wing. "I don't know. The volcano is supposed to be inactive right now. Maybe Louie can tell us something."

Sarah looked at the wall of jungle. "Do you think he can find us, Jake?"

Jack barked twice.

Jake nodded. "Jack's right. The village is just over there. They should be here any minute. I'll start getting the gear out. Corky, while we are waiting, why don't you top off the tanks? It's less to haul around, and we might need to leave in a hurry."

Jack barked twice more.

"Right, Jake." Corky moved from the cockpit back into the Goose.

"Sarah, why don't you come up here and keep watch."

"Sure, Jake." With that, Sarah turned so she could get her hips onto the bow deck, and swing her legs out of the hatch. Jake offered her a hand, helping her up onto the wing. Jake then slid back down onto the deck and dropped through the hatch. Moving carefully past Corky's refueling operation, wrinkling his nose at the pungent fumes from the gasoline drums, Jake moved to the rear of the Goose. Clamped to the rear bulkhead of the passenger compartment was a small Danforth anchor and a length of rope. Jake tossed the anchor out into the lagoon and tugged until the flukes of the anchor bit into the sandy bottom and held. He pulled the line taught, and made it fast to a cleat just behind the rear hatch. The ropes, fore and aft, would keep the Goose securely moored on the beach.

Sarah's "Jake, I think someone is coming" interrupted Jake's plans and he decided to drop out of the rear hatch and walk to shore rather than face the fumes in the cabin.

Makki was the first person he saw coming out of the trees, followed by very handsome woman with long, dark hair, and a fine figure. Her dark expressive eyes smiled at Jake as she offered him her hand. Her poise prompted him to kiss the hand, rather than shake it.

"I'm Jake Cutter, I'm looking for my friend, Louie."

Her puzzled expression caused Jake to kick himself. Why would he think she spoke English. He tried his broken French. Comprehension dawned in her eyes. She responded in French, but all Jake really understood was that her name was Martha. Jake looked at the Goose.

"Sarah, I need your French."

With a cheery "Sure, Jake." Sarah dropped off the Goose and walked up to Jake and Martha. In a flurry of clear French, Sarah introduced herself.

Jake was barely able to make out that she repeated that the missionaries had given her the name Martha, that she was a Christian, and that she apologized that her husband, the head of the island, did not meet them himself. She explained that when the Devil Bird attacked their village, he was struck in the leg. He was recovering, thanks to the care he received from Louie.

Jake nodded. That sounded like Louie. From the tone of Martha's voice, Jake suspected that Louie had impressed her in more ways than just healing her husband. He mentally shook his head.

"Sarah, ask her where Louie is, and if she knows anything about the smoke over on the east ridge."

Another flurry of conversation. Jake managed to catch every third word. Finally Sarah held up a hand. "Jake, according to Martha, yesterday morning Louie, Willi, and Makki went exploring up the mountain. Makki came back late last evening, saying that Louie and Willi had found the home of the Devil Bird. They've joined forces with someone he calls the Dragon Lady and planned to attack this morning."

Jake looked worried. "From what we saw, up above, I'd say they didn't wait for us."

Jack barked twice.

Sarah nodded at Jack, then looked at Jake with a puzzled expression on her face. "Jake, who do you suppose he means by Dragon Lady?"

Jack barked twice.

Jake grinned. "When you hear that term in these islands, who's your first pick?"

"Princess Koji?"

Jack barked twice.

Jake nodded. "Right pal. That'd be my first bet."

"But how did she find this place?"

Jake shook his head. "I don't know. There's precious little going on in these islands she doesn't know about. For all we know, she may have been conning us all along."

"Jake, even I can't believe that. She lost two ships and their crews."

Jack barked once.

Jake looked startled. "Jack, you don't think she had two ships attacked?"

Jack barked twice.

Sarah looked disbelieving. "But she was so angry about the loss. She can't have faked that."

Jack barked twice more.

Sarah stared at Jack. "Now I'm confused. If she faked the loss of two ships, she can't be angry about their loss."

Jake snapped his fingers. "But she can be angry that she lost a sailor she shouldn't have."

Jack barked twice and wagged his tail.

"If Koji is in on this, then Louie may be walking into a trap. I've got to get up that mountain." Jake started for the Goose. "Sarah, ask Martha to get me a guide up to the Devil Bird's nest. I've got to grab a couple of things out of the plane."

"Jake, wouldn't it be quicker to fly up?"

Jack barked once.

"Jack's right. If that is an airbase, and they have anti-aircraft guns to protect it, the Goose is a sitting Duck. I've got to get up there to check things out." Jake reached into the Goose and pulled out a backpack and a long black object that he slung over his shoulder by the attached sling. Sarah recognized it as a shotgun.

"Jake, what's that?"

Jake grabbed the sling. "this? It's something I picked up from an Army buddy of mine." He reached back into the Goose to pull out a bandolier studded with shotgun shells. "I like my pistol, but in a firefight, this is handier. It's an Ithaca Featherweight in 12 ga. Most effective squad weapon ever created."

Jake walked up on the beach. "I've got to get going."

Sarah shook her head. "I'm going with you."

Jake shook his head. "I don't think so. Not this time."

Sarah looked past Jake. "Corky, could you bring my bag?"

A muffled "Sure, Sarah" issued from the Goose's interior and Corky popped out the bow hatch with a half-sized canvas duffle bag with a pair of shoulder straps. "Here you go, Sarah."

Sarah walked to the bow and put her arms through the straps, expertly pulling them tight. She walked slowly up to Jake. "It's my mission. You can lead, but I'm going."

"Sarah, what if we get into a fight up there? I can't watch my back and protect you." Images of a blood-stained form slumping to the ground with a surprised look on her face played across his mind. It was a memory, not a vision. It was why he now had the shotgun.

Sarah nodded. She released the straps on her pack and let it drop to the beach. She opened a side pocket and pulled out a .38 Special Colt Police Positive. "This was my daddy's revolver. I shot his murderer with it. He taught me to shoot snakes in the desert. I can shoot snakes on the mountain if I have to."

Jack barked twice.

Jake looked down at Jack, surprised. "You too, Beastus?"

Jack barked twice more and walked over to Makki.

Jake threw both hands in the air. "I give up. Corky, watch the Goose while I'm gone. See if the villagers need anything we brought." He walked over to Makki. "Let's get this circus on the road."

Jake followed Makki on the beginnings of a trail into the island's interior. Sarah, he thought. All the time he'd known her, he'd never seen that revolver. It just went to show that no matter how well you know someone, you never really know them.

Reunion

"Dear Gott. Dere is a Heaven!" Willi sat comfortably at a table in the dining area. He hadn't even bothered to clean the soot from his face and hands before sitting to eat some of the German food he found in the area. Oh the flavors. Better than blessings – well almost. He was ravenous. An entire day hiking on scant rations, and a morning filled with fighting, trying to save the aeroplane that some guard had tried to destroy with a grenade, and searching for that never to be sufficiently damned Rolf. He was no where to be found in camp. Willi had let Koji's men search the sleeping area, he wasn't fool enough to go there until Koji had collected her pets. He had looked elsewhere. He had checked all the bodies. Willi finally concluded that Rolf must be somewhere off the island, curse the luck. Probably meeting with one of his spies planning his next attack.

Willi looked at the food piled in front of him. Maybe he should save some for Koji and the Magistrate. He started to push the food away. Nein. What nonsense. Princess Koji would not appreciate good Churman cooking. The Magistrate wouldn't understand this food. It was best if he ate it to keep it from going to waste.

Willi looked at the table. Such a funny place setting. A fork for his left hand, der plate, der beer mug, der knife for the right hand, and the BMP 35, also for the right hand. Just what any soldier needed for a proper dining setting.

He picked up the fork and was reaching for the knife when he heard voices across the runway and the sound of people pushing through the brush. His right hand swerved unerringly to the stock of the machine pistol, his left hand moving to the forestock, still holding the fork.

A familiar face wearing a 50-mission crush hat stepped into the clearing at the edge of the runway. A small dog moved to stand in front of him. Recognition dawned in two sets of eyes. Eyes still searching the area, shotgun at the ready, Jake crossed the runway.

"Jake Cutter, und Sarah. This is a surprise."

Jake's right hand rotated the grip of the shotgun upward until the barrel rested on his right shoulder. His left hand gestured to Willi. "Well, Reverend. Are you going to shoot us, or eat us?"

Sarah looked around Jake's left should and giggled. Willi looked down at the MP35 and the fork. He smiled. Looking back at Jake, "I vould shoot you, but you would be too tough to eat. Besides, I haff much gut food here."

Sarah moved around Jake. "What have you got, I'm starving after that climb."

Jake put out his left hand. "What about the original owners? Won't they protest?"

"All of dem haff gone to explain der sins to Jesus." Willi looked sad. "None of them vould surrender." All except Rolf, he thought. I don't know where he is.

Jake motioned over his shoulder and villagers came up into the clearing. Willi's eyes brightened when he saw a couple of the lovely village girls he had met, including Samli. A thrashing in the brush drew his reluctant attention to two of the larger men coming into the clearing with a struggling Lorekki gripped firmly between them.

Jake nodded to the trio. "We found this one trying to sneak down the mountain. We thought it better to bring him back to keep an eye on him."

"Ja. Ist gut idea."

Sarah stamped her foot in the dust of the floor. "I'm still starving. What have you got?"

Willi beamed at Sarah. "If der Fraulein vould care to join me, ich habe Sausages, kraut, und good German Potato salad. Ich habe hard boiled eggs, cold rouladen and snitzel, a strong dark rye bread, and gud Churman beer. Sadly, under the conditions, what is supposed to be warm is cold, and vhat should be cold ist varm. Ve must make do."

Sarah looked at the quantities of food. "I haven't seen this much German food since I went to Europe with Daddy." She moved over to stand across the table from Willi. "Do you have enough for the villagers?"

Jack barked twice.

"Ja. Dere ist enough. I tink they recently received fresh supplies. Much of it is canned, but it is very good." Willi suited his words to action by picking up a peeled hard boiled egg and popping it into his mouth.

Jake eyed the food. "We should go find Louie. He'll be wondering where we are."

Jack eyed the table and Sarah. He barked once.

Sarah laughed and opened a beer, pouring it into a tin plate she then placed on the ground under the table. "I think Jack thinks Louie will find us when he is ready."

Jack barked twice and proceeded to lap the beer from the pan.

Jake looked at the food as the villagers began to wander over and help themselves – all except those holding Lorekki. Even they were looking wistful. He looked around and saw a length of rope on the ground nearby. He walked over and picked it up. He motioned to Lorekki's guards and had them bring the traitor to a nearby vertical support. He tied Lorekki firmly to the support. He then motioned the guards over to the others to help themselves to the food. He then proceeded to walk away.

"Jake Cutter. Where do you go?" Willi sounded distressed.

Jake looked back at him. "I want to find Louie. I want to let him know we are here. I also want to know about that transport."

"Ach! Go that way, 400 meters. You will find der Magistrate and the transport. What is left of it." Willi decided not to mention that Princess Koji was there. He would find out soon enough. Willi would stay in the command post area. He had no desire to have anyone search there and find something he had missed. He looked over to where Samli was eating a piece of cheese. It would be nice, though, to find a tent and a comfortable cot for a little while.

Wreckage

Jake walked cautiously along the edge of the runway. In a way he was relieved to be free of the large group. Now he didn't have to watch out for them. He envied the stacks of supplies and equipment. He wished the Chinese had been so well equipped. How many of his buddies would be alive? He shook his head and kept moving, reminding himself that in spite of the Reverend's assurance, or perhaps because of, he was in a combat zone. A plume of smoke guided him to the revetment area where the transport sat. Portions of the metallic skin were blackened and warped. The tires were reduced to blackened rims. The massive wooden, four-bladed prop that looked as if it were two props bolted together at right angles sported just blackened stubs.

He was saddened to see such a proud old bird reduced to this. The fierce beak and eyes were blackened and peeling from the heat. Jake paused in his inspection when he heard voices coming from the back of the shelter. He recognized Louie's cultured tones, but rejected the possibility of identity of the distinctly feminine voice he heard.

He walked past the nose and down the side of the plane. The two individuals heard his approach and turned as one.

The feminine contralto was faintly mocking. "Well, Captain Cutter, you seem to have missed all the fun."

Jake refused to be baited. He politely nodded to her. "Princess Koji. Where's your shadow?"

"Todo has gone to collect my men and move them off the island. We are through here."

"I didn't see your ship when I flew in."

"I'm not surprised. I found where a small river had created a cove almost completely covered by trees. The Forbidden Breath is completely concealed from the water and the air."

Jake nodded his acceptance of this fact and faced Louie. "What is happening here"

"It is most extraordinary, mon ami. Before I tell you however, how fairs the Goose? You obviously made it here."

"The Goose is fine, Louie." He gestured toward the Junkers. "I see that you fixed it so I wouldn't get an hot reception coming in."

"Non, Jake, I would have preferred to keep it going. One of the maintenance crew used a pair of grenades to destroy the plane."

"Had you been here, Captain Cutter, perhaps we could have saved the plane. I would have liked to have it myself." Koji sounded only mildly disturbed.

Jake shrugged. "I offered to come, but Louie insisted that I get the Goose repaired just in case. It doesn't look like he needed me."

Louie laughed. "Au contraire, mon ami, I am very glad you are here. I have no wish to paddle that canoe back across the ocean. The comfort of your Goose is just what the doctor ordered."

Jake surveyed the base. "It doesn't look like anyone here needs your service as a doctor."

"Sadly no, they chose to fight. We offered to let them live, but it was not their wish." Louie went on to describe the conflict and the search they had made for survivors. Louie was disappointed that he had not discovered more concerning the nature of the group.

"I had hoped" Louie continued, "to find some clue from this aerocraft, but I was not fast enough to prevent its destruction."

Jake examined the hulk one more time. "Pity. These were magnificent aircraft. I would have liked to fly one again."

"C'est le guerre, mon ami. We should return to camp and see if the good Reverend left us anything for lunch."

The three companions strolled watchfully toward the command post. Koji's men had brought all the bodies to the edge of the runway in front of the tent and departed. A solitary figure was ministering to each one oblivious to the incongruity of a native-garbed individual administering priestly last rites.

Missing

Willi studied the row of bodies. Just yesterday afternoon these men were playing soccer and laughing. Now their faces were distorted from fear, shock, or anger. Several faces were frozen in looks of disbelief. Many of the faces were now unrecognizable. Willi sadly shook his head. Such a waste, he thought. These men should have been anywhere else but here. There were so many worthy ways to give one's life for the Fatherland.

Willi walked to one, knelt down and gently massaged the face into a more normal, serene composure. The eyes disturbed him. Even though he knew they were sightless, they looked accusingly at him. It was as if, dead, they knew his traitorous secret. He closed the eyes. That was better. He silently said a prayer for the lost comrade. He looked down the row of bodies. So many accusing eyes. He moved to the next figure, and the next. It became a compulsion. The only way he could find peace is to find the one responsible for this. Him, he would not bless. Willi hoped he rotted in Hell.

"Looking for someone?"

The voice startled him. Sarah had come over from the command tent. When last Willi had seen her, she had been idly looking about the documents scattered about. She'd said something about trying to find out who these people had been. Now she was looking at him with a puzzled expression.

Willi extended his hand. "Dese poor souls. It is a shame they had to die. They must be blessed, and their sins forgiven before meeting their creator."

"I am touched, Monsieur Reverend, by your concern for the dead. Especially knowing the pain and suffering they caused below." Louie, Koji, and Jake walked up as he spoke. Behind them was Todo, cleaning the blood off his sword with a silk cloth impregnated with a mild abrasive. He looked happy.

"I have not your worldly experience Magistrate, but my heart tells me that these men were only following orders." And the worst of them is not here, he thought.

Koji sniffed. "I would not waste any concern for pirates."

Willi struggled to keep a straight face at the hypocrisy of that statement. He was startled when Jack barked once.

Louie looked at Jack. "It seems that Monsieur Jack does not agree with your assessment. Certainly, I noticed a certain military precision in their actions." Louie walked over to a pile of weapons. "And these are all military arms."

Sarah looked at the faces. "These all look European. Mostly German."

"That's absurd!" Willi protested. "Der Churmans are too busy fighting in Europe, to waste men here harassing island shipping."

Jack barked once, annoying Willi. Jack looked straight at Willi as if daring him to argue.

"Maybe" said Sarah. "But I found these in the dust by the command post." She held out collar pins shaped in the double lightning strike of the SS. "These look like someone was leaving in a hurry and didn't notice they lost them."

Willi looked at the silver emblems and spat in the dust. "Bah. Dose murdering thugs." This was anger he didn't have to fake. All he had to do was picture one face, and the anger poured through him.

"Reverend," Koji's usually mocking voice positively dripped. "I thought you were a man of peace. You don't sound peaceful."

Jack barked twice. Koji smiled at him.

"A righteous man can feel anger. Jesus did when he threw the money changers from the temple. He made a weapon, and drove them from the court." Willi knew that passage by heart. It was his favorite image of Jesus. "Vat I did today is merely a small payback for what these savages have done to my country."

Koji stood back a little. Willi was surprised. She knew he was a fake. The expression on her face almost convinced him that he had convinced her. He couldn't be too proud of that, though, because he was only half acting. Rolf and his kind were destroying the Germany he loved. That was another reason he dreaded being recalled. What would he find there?

Koji recovered. "Although my mother's ancestors would agree, my father led me to believe that the Christians believed in 'vengeance is mine saith the Lord.'"

Willi nodded virgorously. "Ya, und today he used me as his instrument. A small reward for my faithful service."

Jack barked once again, spoiling Willi's lofty demeanor.

Jake cleared his throat. "It looks like everything is under control here, but someone might send reinforcements. Let's see how fast we can search this place and get out of here. At least get the natives down of the mountain. We don't want to leave any sign they were here."

Louie nodded. "Oui. If there were to be any retaliation, it would be on these innocent souls."

Jake nodded. He saw some of the natives looking through the equipment in the efficient field kitchen. "We'd better keep the natives from taking any souvenirs. That would be a dead giveaway that they were here."

"That poses a question." Koji looked at all of the group except Sarah. "What do you intend to do with this place?"

Jake looked around the compound again. The Germans or the Japanese would have no problem housing fifteen, twenty planes here. Station some torpedo bombers here, and you could sink any shipping headed for the Philippines, or the Solomon Islands. On the other hand, US planes stashed here could easily attack Japanese possessions. He placed a hand quietly on Sarah's shoulder as he heard her take a deep breath.

Willi thought about the fact that Rolf was missing. "They will return." And when they did, his career would be finished.

Jack barked twice and as he sat in the dust he appeared to be grinning at Willi. Did the dog read minds?

"D'accord. How do we prevent that? Whoever these people were, and I'm not convinced they were bandits or rogue mercenaries, I do not desire to allow them the means to continue to operate here."

Willi wondered what Koji would say. She had assisted in setting up the base. But, would she allow them to return after the attempts on her life. He was pretty sure she knew that Rolf was not among the bodies. Her face was expressionless when she spoke.

"Magistrate, I intend for my people to keep an eye on this place. With your agreement I will make certain this camp remains unused. I wish to lose no more ships, or people, to these predators."

Willi thought it typical of Koji that she put her ships first.

"Tres bien, Mademoiselle. Then, shortly, we should usher the villagers back to their village. I would like to spend some time looking at this camp in detail. There may be some additional clues as to who was behind this." Louie looked at Willi. "Reverend, would you please use your language skills to decipher what you can from the wreckage in the command post."

Willi breathed a sigh of relief. "Ja, Herr Magistrate. It wouldt give me great pleasure to assist."

Sarah spoke, "May I look with you, Reverend? I studied some German in college. Maybe I could make something out as well."

Willi grinned broadly. "Yes, my child. I would like your assistance." He was fairly certain he could keep Sarah from finding anything valuable. Besides, what did he have to fear from a singer? Even an educated one?

"Bein, mes amis. We will search until dark. Then, Jake, I suggest you return to the village and bring the Goose here in the morning."

Morning breaks

In the twilight of a false dawn, a tired Jake Cutter and Sarah lifted the Goose from its hiding place in the secure island cove and flew to the German airstrip. He'd loaded all of Louie and Willi's gear from the village, making certain to leave no trace. As Jake set the Goose into a climb to the mountain pass, Sarah used the altitude to radio the Hancock. She managed to reach Josh and they planned for the Hancock not to arrive that day, but to check in on the islanders in the weeks to come.

She reported her disappointment that the radio had been destroyed and the code book with acative frequencies had somehow burned in the fight. She'd tried for some time to make something out of the water soaked, burned pages, but it was hopeless. Willi noted her efforts and wondered at the limits of feminine curiosity. She reported to Josh that she didn't think anyone suspected her efforts.

Jake circled as he climbed to give Sarah time to complete her report. At one point, he nudged Sarah and pointed at Princess Koji's junk, the Forbidden Pleasures, moving off under sail. She was wasting no time departing the island and had not bothered to say goodbye to anyone. Sarah nodded and passed the information along to Josh.

When Sarah finished her transmission Jake approached the base. He was concerned about wind direction until he saw a white sheet suspended from a pole standing in the compound. He grinned at what he knew had to have been Corky's improvisation. He laid out a pattern in his mind's eye and turned the Goose into the wind. He set down very close to the end of the runway, ran out his speed on the runway, and taxied to the fuel dump. The cautious Germans had wisely placed the fuel dump away from the revetment holding the now ruined transport. Corky and Louie were waiting with hoses to quickly fill both wing tanks. Corky had scrounged another wobble pump and made short work of the fueling process, fueling both wing tanks at the same time with the help of grateful natives. As soon as the fuel was loaded, Jake gave the Goose a more thorough going over. The trip thus far had not been stressful for the much repaired airframe, and all their work seemed to be holding.

Louie and Sarah were making their goodbyes when Willi showed up with his arms around two attractive young native girls.

Louie looked at him. "Reverend, you'd best get ready. We must be leaving soon."

Willi shook his head, a happy, carefree smile on his face. "Herr Magistrate, I cannot in good conscience leave these poor, poor people. Their homes are wrecked, their spirits devastated." He looked fondly at the girl nestled under his right arm. He thrust his hip lightly against hers. "Dey have much need of blessings." The girl giggled.

"Reverend, I hardly think it wise for you to …"

"…follow my duty, as I see it, Herr Magistrate. God does not always tell us to do what is wise. Our mode of arriving here is proof of that." Besides, thought Willi, I need time to go over this base thoroughly to be absolutely certain there is nothing to harm my mission. And, Rolf is not among the bodies.

Louie shook his head. "How will you get back, Reverend?"

"If you leave me the radio, I will be able to call you to come get me."

Louie looked at the smiling girls with a small smile on his own face. The Reverend wasn't the only one to be appreciated for their efforts. "I suspect your prayer routines will be disrupted again."

Willi shrugged. "There is always another canoe, Herr Magistrate."

Louie extended his right hand. "Oui, mon ami. Take care. Please get the villagers down from here as quickly as possible."

Willi extended his right hand to shake Louie's without dislodging either girl. "Ja, Herr Magistrate, I vill take wery good care." And for insurance, he thought, I have the machine pistols stashed away, including one in the carry bag you so thoughtfully returned.

The friends all climbed on board the Goose to head home. The rest of the fuel was soaking into the island sand. Any planes landing there would have no fuel for the next leg of their trip.

Willi stood watching the Goose diminish in the distance. Both girls started clamoring for his attention. He couldn't understand a word they said, but the body language was universal.

The Goose rose to meet the overcast sky. At five thousand feet, Jake found an opening in the clouds and climbed above. He found himself in a space between two layers of clouds. It was like flying between two layers of cotton. He turned south and decided to stay between the layers. The sun rose and cast its light between the layers. The golden light bounced back and forth turning the enclosed space into a wonderland of gold and silver. Sarah exclaimed at the beauty, as Jake turned east to meet the sun.

"Mon Dieu!" Louie peered past the bulkhead to see forward.

"Yeah," said Jake. "This is when you know there is a God."

"This must be what heaven looks like." Said Sarah softly.

Corky didn't say anything. He just pulled out his harmonica and started playing Amazing Grace. Jake stared out the top of the curved brow of the left-hand windscreen. "Lord" he prayed softly. "We thank you for your blessings of life and health. We thank you for surviving this ordeal." And I don't have any new shadows he thought to himself. "Lord, we thank you for this glimpse of your wonders." He looked up to see the golden light fading as the sun continued to rise. "Amen."

All the rest remained silent while Corky played softly. Jake turned west again and put the Goose in a climb, wanting to penetrate the clouds above and see the sun again.

Willi was herding the last of the villagers off the edge of the base plateau when he heard a roar. He'd chosen to go down off the western end of the runway thinking that it might be an easier path for the rest. Shouting uselessly for everyone to get down, he finally got his message across by dropping to the ground himself. Then he stood, motioning for everyone else to stay down. He dashed back to the edge of the airstrip to see a hole in the side of the mountain. Around it was scattered brush that must have concealed it. Tracks in the dirt led to the runway and Willi looked east to see a small airplane tottering on narrow landing gear starting a run toward him. Although Willi couldn't see the face of the pilot, he knew who it was. As the tail came up off the ground and the plane leveled, bright flashes obscured part of the nose. Willi realized that the pilot was trying to shoot him down. Willi dropped to the ground, frantically trying to open his carry bag. He pulled one of the BMP 35s from the bag and tried to fire back. Nothing happened. Cursing in a very unpriestly fashion, Willi jerked back on the charging handle and fired a long burst as the small Messerschmidt Bf-109 rocketed past. The jaw line and mustache of the pilot confirmed Willi's dread that it was Rolf. He smiled mockingly at Willi as he pulled back on the stick and the little plane leapt into the air. Willi fired one last burst after the plane and beat the dust with his fist. He felt totally helpless to do anything. He could only pray for his friends, knowing that they were doomed.

Conflict Entered

Several miles to the West, Jake and his friends had settled into the boring routine of level flight. Jake and Corky were in the cockpit. Sarah and Louie were relaxing in the passenger cabin. They were all enjoying the strains of Corky's harmonica. It's a sprightly tune and everyone enjoyed the mood. Unseen by Jake, a small, dark airplane with a yellow brown nose and fierce eyes painted on the fuselage rose out of the clouds and opened fire on Goose from the blind spot below and behind. Sarah screamed. Jake pulled up abruptly and the brownish-grey aircraft with Bird face showing streaked by.

"Jake! That's no … what did you call it … Jun – Jun – Jun …"

"Junkers." Jake replied as he dove back into the clouds, hoping to lose the attacker. Once in the clouds, Jakes chopped back on the throttles.

Sarah found her voice. "Jake, that was a fighter."

"Tell me about it! There must have been two planes." Jake brought the Goose into a nose-high attitude and held his airspeed just above a stall.

"The old man, mon ami. He said there were two devil birds, the mother and its baby."

Jake nodded his head. "Sure, the armed transport for supplies and bombing runs and the fighter for close support and strafing. Be still for a minute." He opened his window, straining to hear any sounds outside the hull. Sarah started to speak, but Louie silenced her even before Jake could respond. Jake added just a tiny bit of throttle, forcing the Goose to crawl upwards, just above the clouds. The tail vertical stabilizer looked like a shark fin cutting through the wisps of clouds. There's no sign of the aggressor.

Hoping he's clear, Jake pulled above the clouds into clear air. A sharp rattle and a sudden stitching of holes in the wing let him know that he's still in trouble. He dropped back into the clouds and turned to the right only to see tracers lighting the mists beside him.

Jake dove even deeper into the clouds, hating being blind, but needing time to think. He looked over at Corky. Corky's face is white.

"I'm pretty sure it's a Bf-109, Corky."

"How could a Bf-109 get clear out here, Jake?" Sarah struggled to keep disbelief out of her voice.

"It could have been delivered by freighter." Louie is beginning to come to terms with the surprise.

Jake nodded. "Yeah, by freighter or by submarine. The Japanese have subs with hangers at the base of the conning tower. They could have brought one in with the wings in storage."

Jake considered his options aloud. "He's got more speed and maneuverability. We've got just enough gas to return to Boragora. I can't hide from him the entire time, and I don't have enough fuel to keep hiding in the clouds. I'm sorry, Corky."

"You gotta do what you gotta do, Jake." Corky sounded reluctant. Jack whined agreement from where he was huddled in the aft cargo hold.

Sarah and Louie look puzzled. "What does he mean, Jake?"

Jake's face took a different look. Of the three people in the plane with him, only Corky had ever seen it before. Corky looked at his harmonica and started to play "Battle Hymn of the Republic."

Jake looked to drop below the clouds, hoping his assailant is still looking for him to surface above the clouds. "Strap in everyone, this is going to be rough."

He reached over and flipped up the red cover and armed the electronic firing mechanisms.

He pulled all the way back on the throttles and the Goose sank like a stone. He applied left rudder and right aileron placing the Goose into a steep slip. He still hoped to evade the Bf109. The takka-takka-takka report from astern confirmed his fears. Jake steepened the slip hoping to draw the Messerschmitt after him. The Goose plunged for the water, building airspeed. Jake blessed the makers for the inherent strength in the airframe as he exceeded the recommended speed for a dive. Now they'd really test their repairs.

"Jake, mon ami, I know the Goose floats, but I do not believe it will fly under water."

Jake didn't bother to answer. At the last second he pulled out of the dive, bare inches above the water. The 109 pilot was too good and managed not to pancake into the water but his prop spray was a clear indication of how close he came. With his higher airspeed he overshot the Goose. Jake pulled a sharp Immelman turn to run the opposite direction, using the time to gain just a little airspeed. He shoved the throttles all the way forward and the engines responded with a roar unlike any response the friends had heard before. He advanced the throttles past their stops and coaxed the salvaged bomber engines to full military power. Jake let the Goose gradually gain altitude. He hunched his shoulders, not liking the fact he was blind to the rear. He had no idea what the other pilot was doing. A gasp from Sarah back in the main cabin caused him to look to the starboard side. Flying along side the Goose was the 109. The pilot is looking in amazement that so ungainly an aircraft would dare to defy him. As they watch, he increased his airspeed and the Daimler-Benz DB-601A engine pulled the Messerschmitt ahead of the Goose. Jake backed off the throttles to give himself time to see what the other was going to do. That and try to conserve enough fuel to get home.

"Jake, do you think he's going to give up?"

"No, he's not going to give up. He's got to eliminate us to protect his mission. And we can't let him continue."

"Jake, mon ami. As much as I abhor running, would it not be better to climb back into the clouds and lose him on the way to Boragora?"

"It won't work, Louie. He knows where we're going. All he has to do is patrol clear air between here and there and pick us off at his leisure."

"We could land and wait him out on the surface until he is low on fuel."

"You forget, Louie, if we're on the ground, he can still destroy the Goose and leave us stranded, if not shark bait. We can't count on their not getting the Iron Annie back in the air. Besides, if we let him go, what will happen to the Reverend?"

"Jake, my friend. As much as I admire your flying skills, against an armed fighter, your Goose is a sitting duck."

Jake replied with more confidence than he felt. "The Goose has a few surprises, Louie. You'll have to trust me."

Sarah looked disgusted. "There's no island here to fake a crash So, are you going to point your finger out the window and go BANG-BANG?"

Jack barked twice.

Sarah looked back at Jack. "Jake, doesn't two barks mean yes?"

Jack barked twice.

"Jack, you're agreeing with me, right?"

Jack barked once.

"Jake, is Jack saying you can shoot him down?"

"I wish this were possible, mon ami."

Jake looked back at Jack. All this talk is making him very nervous. He needed to focus on the coming combat. "I don't think I have any choice, do I, pal?"

One sharp bark.

"Right. Thanks. Folks, let me concentrate on flying. You concentrate on praying. Try to find that plane."

"No need, Jake. Look straight ahead."

Corky's finger almost poked the windscreen pointing at the growing speck directly in front of the Goose. The oncoming plane held its fire, and Jake thought of the old battle cry 'don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes'. Jake jockeyed the nose up and down, as if trying to figure which way to run. The fighter almost leisurely corrected to stay directly in front of him. He pulled the throttles still further back, hanging above a stall, to gain another few seconds of time. He thought back to the sight of the twin tracers of their night firing tests. The oncoming fighter fired a burst that just missed to port. Jake resisted the temptation to turn. Why give him a better target. He continued to bore in. The oncoming pilot fired another burst that again just missed to port. Jake held his breath. He never liked playing chicken, but it is his only chance.

Believing that the pilot would try to scare him this pass, Jake waited. When the Messerschmitt was about 500 yards out, Jake slammed the throttles clear forward again. He pressed the button on the yoke. The sound of explosions filled the cabin. From the back Jake heard Sarah scream and Louie's startled "Mon Dieu!"

He wanted to look, but couldn't. Instead, he watched the tracers climb up to intersect the nose of the fighter. Jake used the nose cleat as a sighting post, keeping it centered on the approaching plane. The startled pilot started to turn and Jake matched the maneuver, keeping the tracers pouring into the fighter. It started to smoke and one wing crumpled as the once beautiful bird tumbled down to the water.

Jake circled over the site of the crash. If the pilot surfaced, he planned to land and bring him aboard alive. There were so many questions to be answered. But there is no sign of life.

Louie finally spoke. "I cannot believe we are still alive."

Jake held up his right fist, index finger extended, thumb sticking straight out. He blew imaginary gunsmoke off his finger tip. Then his face grew solemn.

"I didn't want to do that."

He pulled the Goose out of the turn and pointed it back toward Boragora. Louie gave Jake a long silent look and sat back down, fastening his seat belt without a word. Sarah started to speak, and seeing the expression on his face straightened back up with a worried frown on her face.

Relief

The uneasy silence was broken when the new radio in the Goose received its first message.

"Vurst Mate to Normandie, Over. Normandie, this is Vurst Mate. Do you read, over. Jake, you must answer me!"

Corky looked at Jake. "He sounds frantic." The voice continued its calls.

Jake looked interested. "You better answer him."

Corky picked up the mike. "Uh … Vusr…er…First Mate, this is Normandie. Go ahead."

"Gott. Danke. Du bist still alive. Listen. Der is no time. You must hide. Land anywhere und hide. Perhaps he will return here und I can stop him."

Jake took the microphone. "First Mate. This is the Captain, Normandie. What are you talking about?"

"Jake. You are a wonderful pilot, but he is armed and insane. He is a killer."

"First Mate. Reverend. I say again. What are you talking about."

"We missed the fiend. He was hiding in a cave mit a fighter. He tried to shoot me. He is coming for du."

"Who is coming for me?"

"ACH! Rolf. Der SS schvine that ran this airfield. He has a plane, a fighter. He is coming to destroy you. I tried to stop him. Land und hide."

Jake started to reply when he felt a gentle touch on his sleeve. It was Louie. He was shaking his head side to side. Jake instantly understood.

"Reverend, it's OK. We are OK. He found us."

"Und du bist alive? Truly it was a miracle."

"I'd agree, Reverend. He was too confident. He crashed into the ocean." Not bad, two truths.

"Vat? How?"

Jake shook his head. "He tried to force me down. He overshot and crashed into the water." It was almost the truth.

"Und you are all right? Dat lovely Sarah is unharmed. Der Magistrate is still lucky?"

Jake laughed. "Yes to all of the above, Reverend."

"Gott is gud. I vill say many prayers of thankfulness tonight."

"That would be good, Reverend. But we should not spend too much time talking."

"Ja, Jake. Now that I know you are vell, I can relax. Ve came down the mountain very quickly." The voice sounded relieved. "Und, Jake …"

"Yes, Reverend?"

"Now would be a good time to consider the Examin."

"Affirmative, Reverend. Over and Out."

Jake replaced the microphone and returned to his flying. Silence permeated the cabin like a syrup.

Eins. He definitely felt the presence of God.

Zwei. Thank God his friends were still alive and the new shadow standing in his past was one he would have no trouble living with.

Drei. Ouch. He wasn't sure he wanted God to send His Holy Spirit to look at his actions, attitudes and motives. Jake reached up to adjust a throttle. I think the Reverend has too much faith in me, he thought.

Win and Lose

The late afternoon sun saw the familiar sight of the twin-engined seaplane setting down gracefully on the surface of the lagoon. Once again it taxied up to the dock. Corky and Jack followed the familiar routine of climbing out the nose and tying the Goose down to a bollard on the dock. Corky looked at the blackened edges of the wings and made a note that he needed to cover that very soon.

Climbing out of the rear hatch onto the familiar surface of the dock, Jake jubilantly smiled around his cigar. He assisted Sarah from the hatch and offered a hand to Louie. Louie waved it away and stepped on the dock unassisted.

Jake studied him for a minute. "You should have seen the look on your face." He grinned like a boy who has played a huge practical joke on a friend.

"I was surprised." Louie did not appear amused.

"I told you the Goose still had a few surprises."

"Indeed, and so do I." Louie looked at Jake. He took a deep breath and faced Jake with a face that was both sad and official. "I'm afraid I must commandeer the Goose, Jake. I can't have an unauthorized armed gunship sitting at my dock."

Jake looked disbelieving. "Louie, you can't just take the Goose. That's a bad joke, buddy."

"Oh but I can, mon ami. She's an unauthorized armed vessel in my territory. I cannot allow that."

"But we did it for protection only. And it worked. Those guns saved yours, and Sarah's lives, as well as mine and Corky's."

Jack's low growl caused Jake to look down. "and Jack's." Two sharp barks.

"Oui, but I've seen you avoid trouble before, without guns. I think we were in greater danger, not less, because of them."

"Jake, I told you he wasn't going to be happy." Corky's mournful expression made him look even more like an unhappy bulldog.

"And I'm not." Louie started walking toward the bar.

Jake held both hands out in appeal as he hurried to catch up. "But no one needs to know."

"They will know. You did this months ago. And you should have told me."

"I didn't think I should tell anyone. I wanted to treat them as if they didn't exist."

"Indeed. And I salute your discretion; you have done a marvelous job of not revealing their presence. You still could have trusted me, mon ami."

The appellation hurt. It touched the core of Jake's guilty feelings about the whole event. At the same time, Josh had not wanted him to tell anyone, and the caution seemed to make sense. He walked a short distance without speaking. The others followed silently. Only Jack hurried on up the beach and under the doors of the bar. Jake looked over at Louie.

"You wouldn't know yet if we hadn't been in so much trouble."

"Oui. And I am very glad that you had both the guns and the ability to use them. I agree that we would have otherwise lost our lives. It still does not justify the existence of a disguised warship in my territory without my authorization. You have abused my friendship and my hospitality."

Jake looked contrite. "I didn't mean it that way. Things have been getting tense, and I had an opportunity. If you didn't know, you didn't have to defend or justify it."

Sarah walked up to Louie's other side and took his arm. "Louie, you can't be serious. You can't take Jake's plane. What will he do?"

"I can, and I must."

"I'm an American citizen. You can't take my property."

"If you own the ship, show me the papers."

"Louie, you know she was a wreck. I couldn't get papers for her. I paid cash."

"Exactamente, mon ami! Oui, I know you and Corky rebuilt her from a wreck, and of course salvage law should apply. As long as she was a mere cargo plane, I was perfectly willing to allow her to exist without proper papers. But turning her into an gunship?" Louie paused and waggled an immaculately manicured index finger before Jake's eyes. "That is a very different matter." He stood straighter, reinforcing the official air. "You have a choice. You can allow me to claim the ship, or I must impound and ground the Goose."

"Louie, what if I just took the guns out."

"My friend, given a choice, I would not have wanted those guns on my island. Now, even if you dropped them in the deepest trench in the ocean, they still remain a legacy of the problems we know are coming. Now they are here, they are my responsibility. If you took them out, what would replace them?" Louie shook his head. "I agree that the need you felt was real. And my need to act is real. This acknowledges your need and my responsibility."

"That's not right, Louie."

"Perhaps, on the other hand, a French official with a patrol craft, has the option of choosing whom he wishes as pilot, on the surface, and in the air. Then, you are under my protection. And as you said, it gives us a certain edge. We shall keep the secret of the Goose. Only we four will know the Tiger has teeth."

"You'll pay me to fly my own ship."

"Not exactly, but your bill here at the bar is considerable. I believe we can make an arrangement that will be profitable to all."

Jake thought he saw a loophole. "And how to you plan to explain to your superiors that you now have an armed patrol ship without authorization?"

Louie laughed. "As with the ownership papers of your Goose, the papers regarding this requisition may never find their way to the right hands. And you will not be arrested as being suspected of piracy."

Corky looked distressed. "Hey, Jake. I don't want to be no pirate. Especially in the French territories. You know what they do to pirates here."

The four passed from the bright sun into the shadows of the bar interior.

Louie placed his left hand gently on Jake's right shoulder as he guided him to a quiet corner of the bar. "Jake, Jake, I do not like this any more than you. I believe you should have trusted me, but I also believe you had good reasons for not doing so. This is the best solution for a bad situation. It is the only way, mon ami."

Sarah spoke softly. "He's right, Jake. And you can still fly."

Sarah had put her finger on the crux of Jake's fears. Much as he dreaded the shadows of his life, there was one thing he feared far worse. Jake thrust his hands deep in his jacket pockets. "I suppose you're right."

"Bien. It would be wise for you to start trusting me now."

Gushie had wheeled up a tray with five long stemmed glasses, filled with Louie's finest vintage. Louie lifted one and motioned for the others to each take one. "My dear friends, may I propose a toast? To the Tiger's Teeth. May they never be bared again."

\- Fini –

Copyright Kenneth Finley 2008

Effective revision date: 5/29/2015


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